


How to Live (When You're Already Dead)

by DragonflyxParodies



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - High School, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/F, F/M, High School, M/M, Multi, Other, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-02 06:57:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10212050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonflyxParodies/pseuds/DragonflyxParodies
Summary: Making friends is difficult, after all, when one's life could end any second, and one can barely speak Hylian. Add broken magic, restless dead, and duelists who care to the mix, and those seeking to rip his soul from his body might actually stand a chance of failing. Modern AU. Sheik x Link





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is posted on Fanfiction.net as well, I'm just uploading it here (finally). This is a AU. Like a legit AU that actually takes place in the Zelda universe, not just 'if the characters went to high school here'. As such, please expect it to cover a ton of shit. Like....a lot. Biggest warnings are for cursing, violence, death, abuse/trauma, and sex, though not too graphic IMO. If it does get more intense I'll post warnings for you all!  
> Hope you enjoy the story :3  
> *See translations for Sheikah Language at the bottom of each chapter.

               Although he wasn’t allowed to do so unless he was with an Elder or in the reservation’s borders, Sheik worked on his battle training while waiting for someone to enter the graveyard. It wasn’t a display of aggression or of strength, as he moved through the _Uirah_ his aunt had drilled into his head, but proof of his blood. Sheikah never trained those not of their number, and it was vital the dead haunting the cemetery understood that he wasn’t as much of an intruder as they feared.

It was harder than it usually was, as he was wearing a _heih_ outfit-bandages wrapped tightly around his body, covered by baggy dark-blue pants and a matching shirt, and leather boots. The neckline of his shirt, as always, turned into a cowl-not all Sheikah wore it, and lately masks were preferred by those Sheik’s age, but the skill it took to maneuver and balance with the cloth had always appealed to him. His hair, long to signify he had not married, was pulled into a neat, thin braid down the center of his back, bandages tying the strands together tightly with bangs hiding his left eye-a personal preference, nothing more. The only weapons on him were four daggers-one on each arm and leg-and a number of throwing needles secreted away. _Very_ lightly armed, considering he was in what some believed to be the most dangerous place in Hyrule.

He shifted his stance slowly, glancing up through his bangs at the crowd of Poe lights glistening around him. The layer of agony caking everything, the aching of the mourning souls, was suffocating. Their previous caretaker’s death was far too fresh in their memory for him to be here, but _Delr_ Midna had been adamant. Power, even his, was meant to be used, and tending to the dead was the only useful thing he could ever do with his.

He’d hoped the _Uirah_ would soothe some of the calmer Poes and reassure the rest of them that he didn’t mean them any harm, but it had been over an hour and none of the flames had disappeared. Letting out a soft exhale, he slid out of the stance he was in and closed the _Uirah_ , then dropped down beside a nearby gravestone. Bleeding was always the easier option, but the Elders generally frowned upon that and the punishment for anything they deemed radical or unsuitable would be severe-It was a dangerous practice, unless one knew how shallow the cut to the wrists had to be, and too many Sheikah had been lost to it in the past. It didn’t help that they didn’t like him, either.

Overall, though, the Kakariko graveyard hadn’t been too bad. As the only burial place outside the Shadow Temple itself that housed violent spirits, he’d expected a volatile welcome from its inhabitants. With its sprawling grounds-he’d arrived at noon and only covered about a quarter of it, and it was fully dark out now-it held enough spirits to form an army, and souls fickle enough to do so on a whim. And yet none of them had touched him. They’d followed him, to be sure, but the stronger dead-ReDead and Dead Hands and the like-hadn’t so much as stirred. The dead didn’t know what to make of him yet, and he didn’t want to offend them or force them back into slumber, so they simply watched the other, growing accustom to the other’s presence.

He ran a hand across the gravestone idly, feeling the weight of the ages in its crumbling material as he sank into it. It was calm here, despite the tension aching in night air, and he found that he liked it.

A grin flickered across his lips, unseen. Elder Midna might have placed him there, but he was excited. It was beyond anything he’d ever have expected, being allowed to tend to the Kakariko graveyard. He almost found himself looking to the future, hopeful as to how this would turn out.

The graveyard had been strategically located, blocked in on three sides by sheer cliff faces that would allow nothing, living or dead, purchase. A massive wall narrowed the fourth side down to a single gate through which things could enter or leave, and his magic encased the entire place, winding through the bindings placed by previous caretakers tightly. Nothing could get in our out, whether it had a heartbeat or not, without his consent. As such, the moment someone approached the gate, he knew.

Poe lights scattered when he moved, pushing himself up. It was late for a Hylian to come, but he was glad for the interruption even if his muscles weren’t. It wasn’t a long walk to the gate from where he’d been sitting, and the lampposts flanking the entryway came into view shortly, blazing with a harsh light against the dusk of night. He winced inwardly and blinked for a moment, slowing his pace to allow his eyes to adjust. The Hylian waiting for him below the pools of yellow-white light seemed oblivious to its effects. He was around Sheik’s age, male, with unkempt dark gold hair and sharp blue eyes that widened upon seeing him.

 “Is Dampè alright?”

The question surprised Sheik. Elder Dampè had only been a grave-tender to the Hylians of Kakariko. He hadn’t been forbidden from contacting the residents, but it was usually frowned upon. None would mourn his passing outside the Sheikah-but this particular Hylian seemed to have known Elder Dampè, and fairly well, if his reaction was any indication.

Sheik signed regret and sorrow automatically, lips parting to speak, and then remembered to reply in Hylian, not Sheikah.

“I am sorry. Elder Dampè passed the night before the last. If we had known you were close, we would have sent something…” Sheik trailed off, unsure of how to deal with the Hylian’s stricken expression. A heavy silence enveloped the both of them, and after a second of it Sheik unlocked the gate and swung it open for him.

“Was it peaceful, at least?” The Hylian finally asked, seeming just as lost as Sheik did.

Sheik visibly hesitated.

“I…believe so. My aunt disagrees.”

“How is it a debate?” The Hylian asked, face scrunching up in bewilderment. Sheik wished Marin were there-she knew how to talk to people. He didn’t.

“Elder Dampè had been sick for a while. He was tending the dead when they slew him.”

“…You do understand what the word ‘peaceful’ means, right?”

Sheik signed disapproval at the lack of formality in the Hylian’s tone absently as he shot the boy a glare.

“Elder Dampè had been caring for this graveyard for almost a century. He belonged to the dead as much as they belonged to him. He hated being weak and his sickness bound him to wasting away bit by bit until he could not control his own body. The dead killed him because they could not bear to see him suffer, which I believe he preferred to the death he had been facing previous. My aunt does not agree with me.” He spoke very slowly, struggling to draw the Hylian words out of his memory. He could speak enough of the language to be understood, but he wasn’t certain if he had spoken correctly.

The Hylian lifted his hands in a gesture Sheik thought to be surrender, laughing. Sheik felt irritation bubbling with him. His Hylian wasn’t _that_ bad, was it?

“It still doesn’t sound peaceful, but yeah, I get it. I started coming here a lot after my Grandma died to visit her grave, you know? After a while Dampè started inviting me in to talk…He hated being old.” The Hylian said conversationally, striding in. Sheik frowned at him, but closed and locked the gates. The Hylian stopped when he saw the Poe lights.

“What’s…?”

“The dead are upset. They lost their... _Sahm_.” Sheik let out a noise of irritation as the Hylian word escaped him, drawing a snort of amusement from his companion.

“I will accompany you. I am not sure they will behave.” Sheik sighed, giving up on the word. The Hylian nodded, turning to face him with a dramatic flourish.

“I’m Link.” He said, sticking his hand out. Sheik blinked at the hand-he _really_ needed to brush up on Hylian customs-and offered a shallow, brief bow. The awkwardness of the movement pained him, and he caught a grin flickering across the Hylian’s face.

“I am Sheik.”

Amusement clear in his eyes, the Hylian imitated the bow surprisingly well. Link led the way through the graveyard, Sheik content to trail after him. Poe lights spun around them while they walked, familiar enough with Link to ignore him and unfamiliar enough with Sheik to join a long procession. The tension had suddenly broken, but Sheik had no idea why. He would have been worried for Link’s safety if he wasn’t so comfortable here.

“So why are you here?”

“The Elders placed me here to see how I handle the graveyard.” Sheik said softly, holding out a hand to a small purple Poe light. He didn’t expect it to actually come to him, but it bounced over to him excitedly and wove its way through his fingertips before settling onto his palm. He reached out with a tendril of magic, gently soothing it, and the amethyst light winked out of existence.

“Did it die?” The Hylian’s question surprised Sheik, and he looked up briefly.

“No…it has gone back to sleep.” Link seemed to accept this answer fairly easily, for a Hylian. He nodded and turned off of the path they were on. Sheik followed, impressed that the other boy seemed to know where he was going.

“Dampè used to swear at them and occasionally throw things until they disappeared. Once he spent an hour chasing one around with his slinky-shot thingy, which I thought was a pretty stupid idea ‘cause you can’t actually touch a Poe, but he threatened to hit me with it when I said so. I like your method better. And…this is it.” Link said, gesturing with one hand to a rather simple grave tucked carefully against a cliff wall. A scraggly bush sheltered it from the rain. It had been trimmed so that it grew in a hollow alcove around the grave. The job was not the neatest, but there was still a sort of beauty to its functionality.

“Touch the wall or shout if they do anything that they should not, please. They could grow volatile tonight.” It was as much a warning of what the Hylian could expect as it was an offer of aide. Sheik received a nod and an amused look for his troubles, another reminder that he would have some studying to do when he got home. In a month he would begin his second _Rheshae_ , and the encounter with Link had proven just how lost he was. Maybe Elder Midna would be willing to help him without killing him for asking? He could say a lot of things about her, but she was an excellent teacher. And he knew Impa wouldn’t help him…

He wandered off, towards Elder Dampè’s former residence. It was a small building that had weathered with time, walls covered in brown vines and brambles, shaded by the skeletal branches of a long-dead tree. Sheik didn’t enter it. The key hung around his neck, where Elder Renado had placed it that morning, but he wouldn’t put the added stress on the dead, who already saw him as an invader. He rested his back against the wall, gazing out across the cemetery as he slid to the ground. It was growing colder out and already mist was drawing around the edges of his vision, eating away at the graves steadily.

A green flame bounced its way over to him and dropped onto his lap, extinguishing as soon as it touched him. It snatched at his magic the moment it touched him and dropped itself back into the slumber of the dead, startling him. They were _willing_ to go to sleep? The mass of them in front of him stopped flickering for a moment-and then they tackled him.

It was like being hit by a crowd of clamoring children, each soul demanding his attention. He scrambled for his power, tugging it free and slowly enveloping each Poe.

He focused on each individual soul for a few moments, learning how their power acted so that he could distinguish it from the others before lulling it to sleep. A rainbow of colors-blue, purple, black, white, yellow, orange, green, pink, red-flared in his vision and vanished when he touched them.

His right hand began to ache, slowly burning until it felt as if it had been thrust into an open flame.

The Poes fled when he jerked his hand to his chest, body convulsing when the pain grew too much. He cursed softly, tugging free the bandages that obscured his marking from the view of others.

The golden triangles burned with radiant light. A cluster of three, edges touching, it was a symbol of the Triforce-possibly the most holy artifact in the entirety of Hyrule. His mark was different, of course. The bottom left triangle, symbolizing Wisdom, was again splintered into three smaller triangles. The top triangle of that fractured third blazed far more brilliantly than the others did.

The pain sank further, searing its way up his arm as he fumbled with the bandages, years of practice the only thing that assured he rebound his mark neatly and as tightly as it should have been. The light was immediately snuffed out-it never glowed beyond his bandages, inscribed as they were with the Sheikah symbol for darkness on the inside. The pain dissipated as well, as he rebound his power along with the symbol-again, because of his aunt’s power lingering in the symbols on the cloth. It was a focus he used to draw his magic back under control, and he used it then frantically.

He’d have been killed by now for the mark if it wasn’t for her.

He let out an unstable breath, finishing the bindings, and the Poes returned, flickering hesitantly before approaching him again. They were cautious now, upset. They refused to let him sense anything beyond the vague hint of their emotions, and he scowled at them petulantly.

The web he had spread across the graveyard twitched, and he bolted to his feet, stumbling before managing to catch his balance. It wasn’t Link-it came from the very back of the cemetery. Inwardly berating himself for his mistake, he strode through the graves.

The Poes bounced into a long, thin line behind him, mischief radiating from all of them. They were entirely at ease with him suddenly, and it worried him. What were they plotting?

They bumped his shoulders, tugged at his braid. One of them nestled into his cowl and remained there, cool and warm at the same time against his throat. His knives slipped out of their hiding places and danced around in the air around his head until he snatched them back.

His mood was light when he reached the source of the breach, three males laughing as they stumbled over graves, knocking down ancient, worn stones.

“-Supposed to see in the dark and stuff. This probably isn’t the best way to do this.” The speaker was a tall, lanky boy Sheik’s age with a tattoo beneath one eye and pale lavender hair tied back into a ponytail. One of the Wind Tribe, if the small eddies of mist swirling around him was any indication. The Poe lights vanished, the specters instead choosing their lightless forms although the one within his cowl still emitted a pale blue light, unseen save for when Sheik tilted his head back and it illuminated his chin. Sheik slowed his gait and kept himself to the shadows while he circled the group.

“He’s alone. We don’t have a better shot coming up anytime soon.” The words were accompanied by a snort from a white-haired Hylian with ‘imperious’ in every tilt of his face, from the angle of his nose to the ice in his eyes. He was older than the Wind Tribe boy by at least five years and had to be a college student, in the Hylian world.

“Shush. Shadows grow closer.” It was the third who spoke, slanted eyes dark grey and skin marked in tattoos the likes of which Sheik hadn’t seen in a while. Sheik was impressed that he’d been noticed, and eyed the boy-older than him by two years or so-speculatively as he emerged.

All three stopped and stared at him, the Wind Tribe boy’s eyes widening briefly for a moment.

“Found him.” The grey-eyed boy said, laughing softly.

Sheik reached out with his magic, searching for how they had gotten into the cemetery-there was no gateway, so magic was the only answer.

The eldest boy sneered at him and raised a hand, his power forming a solid wall against Sheik’s. Sheik frowned, and pushed. The wall crumbled immediately, and Sheik caught, for one moment, an echo of decaying power, rotten and sulfurous and toxic, before it faded entirely. He shuddered at the touch, retracting his power and blinking as he focused on the trio before him.

“I ask that you leave now before you wake the dead. I cannot keep them from killing you if they grow enraged, and your trespass is enough to do that.” Sheik said softly, bowing slightly to acknowledge their presence. The Wind Tribe boy laughed aloud, eyes widening in mirth.

“We’ll be leaving shortly.” The Hylian replied, eyes hard with anger as he moved forward. He had offended him by repelling his magic so easily, Sheik realized. The grey-eyed boy did so first, however, and tackled Sheik, glee lightening the shade of his eyes.

Sheik had trained in battle since he was five years old, and had achieved a level of skill that provided a difficult challenge to his aunt, the single most renowned warrior among both Sheikah and Gerudo. And he fell beneath this attack-because the moment the grey-eyed boy made physical contact with him, the dead grew furious, and he would not- _could not_ -lose control of his first charge the first day he was caring for it, and because Link was still there, somewhere, and they wouldn’t discriminate between enemy and innocent. He thrust all of his focus onto keeping the dead silent.

He was only still for a few moments before he achieved a sort of equilibrium between keeping the dead at bay and focusing on what was going around him, but it was enough for the grey-eyed boy to have knocked the air from his lungs. Sheik reacted instantly, kicking his assailant off of him and rolling to his feet.

Something slammed into his back, sending him crashing into the earth. A shoulder bashed against a gravestone painfully. The Wind Tribe boy was whispering to himself, eyes entirely violet as he waved a hand at Sheik. Another gust of wind, visible with the dead leaves twisting violently through the air, shot towards him. Sheik rolled out of the way, flexing his arm to make certain it was still useable. It hurt, of course, but it obeyed his commands relatively easily enough. The Hylian lifted a hand to the sky-Sheik threw an arm over his eyes as he closed them-and light seared his flesh.

The Sheikah were not made of Shadows and light was not fatal to them-but this was not pure light, holy light. This was corrupt, stained with the same aura of decay he had sensed earlier. Poe lights burst into existence all around them, a maelstrom of burning flames enraged over the poisoning of their home.

Sheik’s control splintered, and he threw everything he had into it, letting his body drop to the ground as he fled inward, to his core, and pushed all of his power out. He was putting too much strain on his mind, using all of his magic like this, but he saw no other alternative. Any failure on his part, even under these circumstances, to keep the dead in line would result in harsh punishment from the Elders-and his life was already hanging by a single, fragile thread.

A short, but brutal, beating ensued. Sheik couldn’t keep track of the injuries-the dead were furious, their fury lending them power, and he was only just strong enough to keep them all from-

His control splintered again.

“ _Iha!”_ It was Sheikah for stop, and it was directed at the dead, but there was still a disbelieving laugh from above him somewhere.

_One of them knew Sheikah?_

He was lifted from the ground by his upper arms and they began dragging him. The lack of violence calmed the dead somewhat, allowing him to focus on what was going on around him.

“…-sure?”

“Are you saying you want to back out?” It was the Hylian, his tone dangerous.

“No. I just don’t think that this will work the way he thinks it will.” The Wind Tribe boy replied, voice even and hard as iron as he dragged Sheik’s left arm along.

“The Blood-Eye is conscious, somewhat.” The grey-eyed boy, holding his right arm, cautioned. Sheik supposed he should have been angry at the insult-it was an old racial slur most often used by Hylians-but he filed everything he heard away for later instead. His aunt and the other Elders would want to know what it was he heard-and this stranger using a primarily Hylian insult gave more away than the boy thought it did.

“It isn’t like he’s going to do anything.” The Wind Tribe boy snorted.

“For a legendary Sheikah, he was easy to beat.” The Hylian replied, kicking Sheik in his stomach. The dead again surged, keeping Sheik’s body from automatically curling inward as all of his energy was focused on them for a brief moment.

“His entire being is focused on keeping the spirits from tearing us apart. He was easily defeated because he is trying to save our lives.” The grey-eyed boy replied evenly, tone suddenly cold. He sounded almost offended by the Hylian’s disregard. The Wind Tribe boy hesitated at that, grip loosening somewhat.

“Vaati, don’t let go of him.” The grey-eyed boy said softly, too quietly to be heard by the Hylian.

Sheik opened his eyes then, realizing with a start that they had been closed. Blood was trickling down the side of his face, warm and wet. The Poe light tucked in his cowl was still burning, still cold against his skin. The arm the grey-eyed boy was holding felt broken and was being wrenched at an awkward angle. Sharp pain stabbed his chest with every breath he drew in. Yet none of his weapons had been discovered.

He tilted his head up slightly, feeling fog tugging at his brain-he was straining his magic to the point of death, almost, forcing so much power into keeping the dead at bay.

A hand seized his chin, jerking his head up and his cowl down. The Hylian’s cold, icy eyes sneered down at him.

“We just need the one eye. We can kill him afterwards. He doesn’t care what happens to this one. It’s the girl he-“ The Hylian’s eyes widened and he let go of Sheik as if he was on fire-which, with the single Poe he was unable to control bursting from the cloth that had previously hidden it, it probably looked like he was.

“Osfala are you-?“ Vaati released him and jumped to his companion’s aide-and Sheik slammed a blade into the grey-eyed boy’s leg. He was released and he let himself tumble away from them, pain blinding him briefly. Something tackled him, wrestling him to the ground and then punching him in the jaw as hard as it-probably the boy he’d stabbed-could.

He saw stars-and his head was lifted off of the ground. He caught a blurry glimpse of feral, grinning grey eyes, and his head cracked audibly against a grave. Just before his sight faded, just before he dropped into darkness, he heard a shout, unfamiliar and far more furious than anything he’d ever heard before.

And then the pain blossoming throughout his head took him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uirah--a sort of battle dance/form the Sheikah practice  
> Sahm--Father  
> Rheshae--will be explained in chapter 3!


	2. Chapter 2

Sheik woke to a beeping sound, soft and persistent and unfamiliar. He kept himself still, breathing slowly and evenly as if he was sleeping, and, hesitantly, examined his condition. His magic was tattered and exhausted and weakness pervaded all of his limbs-a sign he had almost killed himself, pushing not just his magic but his life force itself into blocking the dead. First time he’d ever done so. His right arm was in a cast, resting heavily on his chest, and there was something pinching one of his fingertips. His head ached fiercely and his jaw throbbed, and breathing hurt. He was swathed in bandages wrapped nowhere near as neatly as a Sheikah would have done it and his entire body ached-bruises. His mark was covered too, thank Nayru. He could feel the embrace of its bindings on his nearly nonexistent magic.

There was another person in the room, and not a Sheikah, if the sound they made moving in-what? A chair?-was any indication.

His good hand flew to his throat when he remembered the spirit. A startled yelp made him open his eyes even as his fingers encountered bare skin-thank Nayru it was his left arm that he moved, though it still hurt.

A soft fizzling against his fingertips alerted him of the presence of the Poe, and at his touch, it sparked into view, warm blue flames circling his hand as it floated around curiously. He barely noticed, gaze slowly taking in the room he was in and the other occupant of that room.

Vaguely, he recognized the room he was in as a hospital room. The only exits were two windows that couldn’t open-he’d have to shatter the glass, although he appeared to be up a few floors-and a door, the glass reinforced with metal mesh. The Hylian wasn’t the one that had attacked him-Osfala was his name, wasn’t it?-but Sheik recognize him-Link.

“Alright, please, don’t dive out the window. You’re in the hospital, and the scary lady with the scar is down the hall, and the guys who beat you up are gone. You’re safe.” Link said slowly, tone calm, as he held palms up, though his eyes were anxious. Sheik stared at him for a second before the Hylian’s description of his aunt registered, and he then let the tension in his limbs fade away.

“Did you kill them?” Sheik asked softly, reaching a hand out and grabbing the Poe before it could bother Link. It let out a barely audible squeak as he cupped it in his hand. Link’s eyes widened.

“Ki- _No_!” It came out as a yelp. Sheik frowned at him-and then he remembered he was speaking to a Hylian. They never took death as they should and frowned upon killing in general. Not to say the Sheikah _didn’t_ , but self-defense was another matter entirely.

“I am supposed to believe that you, unarmed, scared them away without spilling blood?” Sheik asked slowly, still not entirely believing Link.

“I used a branch. And, I don’t know if this is good or not, but all the Poes tackled them too.”

Sheik felt the blood drain from his face. Concern touched Link’s eyes, but before he could say anything the door flew open-and a very enraged Impa stalked in. Sheik, for the first time in a long while, felt true terror.

His aunt was intimidating at the best of times. She was built solidly, of medium height and almost entirely muscle. Her eyes were as brilliantly red as his, but a scar ran close to the corner of her left orb, vivid against her pale skin and just as red as her eyes. She wore her white hair cut almost militantly short, and was a master at controlling her emotions, unlike Sheik, so she wore no cowl. She wore clothes more suited to ancient Hylian military than the Sheikah, but none would dare speak against her disregard of tradition. She was the Sage of Shadows, and her power was rivaled only by Sheik’s-and that, of course, was accidental. Being so close to her rage, the shadows in the room darkened and lengthened, especially around Sheik. He was a Sageblood, a direct descendent of a Sage, and the blood in his veins carried some of Impa’s formidable power. Now, it was fueling her anger, reacting to her emotions-poorly concealed for the first time in _years_.

“They won’t release you to us, _helrhnesaht_.” His aunt said quietly, voice filled with controlled fury. The use of the Sheikah term for affection let him know she wasn’t angry with him-the single most calming thing he had heard in a long while. She punctuated this by running a hand through her hair, signing calm to him when she saw how panicked he was.

“I…How badly did I lose control, _nereih_?” Sheik asked, his voice still unsteady as he slowly relaxed. Link looked between them, expression caught somewhere between dread and confusion.

“They never left the graveyard, and they didn’t attack the boy. The little one won’t leave you, which seemed to make the others happy, but as soon as you get out you will be taken there. It has been quarantined. Now-“ His aunt stopped dead as a frantic flurry of Hylian, spoken too quickly for Sheik to understand it, echoed from outside the room. Her expression again became thunderous as she turned and left, slamming the door shut behind her.

“…Is she going to kill someone?” The Hylian’s question, phrased with such trepidation it drew a soft laugh from Sheik, broke the silence.

“No.” Link didn’t look like he believed him, but nodded anyway. Sheik tried to ignore how exposed he felt, but his eyes continued to drift to the window regardless. The Poe flitted free of his grip and bounced around near the ceiling, small tendrils of flame prodding at every object it came in contact with.

“…So, they found more weapons on you then I’ve ever seen on one person in my entire life.” The Hylian finally said, tone entirely conversational. Sheik’s eyes narrowed first, but Link seemed nervous, eyes on the floor rather than Sheik’s face. His voice didn’t give away any discomfort at the subject of weapons-so why bring it up?

“And..?” Sheik prompted, bewildered as to what direction Link was going in.

“Where were they forged?” It was literally the last question Sheik would have ever expected. He couldn’t hide his surprise- _where was his cowl?_

“…There is a blacksmith on the outskirts of Kakariko. Most Sheikah go to him for their weapons. He does not cater to Hylians…” Sheik said quietly, eyeing him questioningly. Link’s shoulders drooped and he let out an irritated sigh.

“Damn it. I’ve been trying to find a good blacksmith for a while. I don’t trust anyone selling on the internet enough. It’s too expensive, too important.”

“A Hylian with such an honest interest in weaponry?” Sheik asked, amused. Link grimaced, but nodded. It _was_ an oddity. Save for the dueling that went on in Castle Town every year, Hylians never had cause to even think of touching a weapon. The Sheikah acted as Hyrule’s military, protecting the country from any sort of attack.

The door to Sheik’s room crashed into the wall, making both of them jump in surprise.

 “ _Helrhnearih_!” Marin’s voice sang as she entered, a flurry of swirling ruby and orange skirts, caramel skin, flaming hair, blood-colored eyes, and the dry, musky scent of the desert. By the time her clothes had settled, the child she’d been carrying in her arms had already begun chanting Sheik’s name excitedly.

He smiled softly as she deposited his nephew on his lap, deftly maneuvering the child around his cast and more prominent injuries. Link said something too muffled to be understood and dropped his head into his hands. Sheik frowned, and then laughed aloud when he realized why the tips of Link’s ears were a deep red.

Marin, like all Gerudo, wore deeply traditional clothing-millennia had passed and the only thing that had changed were the embroidery, designs, and colors. It was almost entirely translucent and cut provocatively-something Sheik was used to by now, having just spent almost two years living with them for his first _Rheshae_ , but something Hylians were uncomfortable with in general.

“And this is...?” Marin prompted, hands on hips as she regarded Link. There was no small degree of wariness in her eyes, but her voice was pleasant enough, Sheik supposed.

“Link, this is my elder sister, Marin, and her son, Ganondorf. _Neleur_ , this is Link.” Sheik said softly, pushing himself up a little bit. Large rust-colored eyes looked up at him, wide with a solemn sort of awe. Small fingers reached up and poked at a bruise on his chin-smooth, as Sheikah did not grow facial hair like Hylians or Gerudo men did.

Ganondorf was a very archaic Gerudo term for their king. Usually a more socially acceptable name would be chosen until the child was determined fit enough to take the role of king, and they would be known as Ganondorf from that point on. Sheik liked that Marin had named him that from the start, though. Sheik’s name was just as ancient, and, of course, his too was a title.

“…Um, hi? Sheik, could you have told me to leave before they came in? I don’t want to go on a list of, like, potential threats to the Gerudo king.” Sheik’s eyes widened in shock, but Marin’s laughter cut him off.

“That’s the Royal Family of _Hyrule_ you’re thinking about, boy. You don’t pose enough of a threat to worry about.” Marin replied, tone friendly and teasing but not at all joking as she dropped onto the hospital bed, pushing Sheik’s legs out of her way, though the protectiveness in her body language didn’t disappear.

Sheik couldn’t blame her. He did not have friends, and most of his family had declared him _Luihn_ , no longer a blood relative. His contact with Hylians was fairly limited as well-he rarely saw any Hylians outside his work at the studio-so Link’s presence was doubly suspicious.

 “And you’re siblings? How does that work? I’m not trying to insult you guys or anything, but…” Link trailed off, blushing more furiously than he had before, eyes refusing to meet either of theirs.  Sheik felt a smile touch his lips.

“You are not insulting us. During Marin’s _Rheshae_ she chose to join the Gerudo. She completed their Trials and Din claimed her-her blood is Gerudo now, not Sheikah. I chose not to.” Link frowned.

“The Goddesses can do that? Just…poof? New DNA?” Sheik blinked at him, uncomprehending, while Marin burst into gales of laughter. Ganondorf let out a squeal as the Poe melted in his small hands, grabbing at it as it slithered through the air.

“Where did you find this one, Sheik?”

“He’s the one that…saved my life.” He grimaced as he spoke, shame flooding him. He wasn’t supposed to _need_ rescuing. Marin’s eyes went wide.

“ _He’s_ the one?”

“Am I in trouble?”

“Come, then. As long as _I_ question you, you aren’t in trouble. Sheik, watch Ganon for me. Elder Midna is going to question you personally. Bryne is coming back early too, with Elder Anjean.”

For the second time since waking, Sheik’s face drained of blood. Link saw it and it only served to make him more nervous, so Sheik struggled to regain his composure.

“...You broke no laws. The attack is just…a matter of concern for the Elders. You witnessed it, and they want to hear your testimony. Thank you for what you’ve done. Go with Marin. The Elders do not take kindly to outsiders, and even less so those that have any sort of interaction with their matters. Just…guard your words.”

“That isn’t making me feel any better.”

“You’ll have to excuse him. He doesn’t talk to people.”

“Ravio. Hilda. You. Byrne. Ganondorf. And Impa.” It was petulant of him, but he glared at her as he wrapped his arms around Ganondorf.

“Impressive. Only one of those isn’t family. Now, come on, kid. You do _not_ want to be here when Elder Midna gets here.” Marin said, patting Sheik’s knee as she bounced up.

“Then I’ll see you next week, Sheik.”

“They might-“

“I was insinuating I’d break in if they try to ban me.” Link said dryly, cutting him off.

“Shout when you do or the dead might attack you.” He said quietly, frowning at him as Link flashed a grin and vanished out the door after Marin.

A small hand poked his chest, startling him. His nephew’s eyes blinked up at him, the blue Poe hovering with the same intensity beside Ganondorf’s head. Sheik sighed and began untangling himself from the Hylian machines.

Impa had mentioned he wasn’t allowed to leave, but he doubted Elder Midna would appreciate if he just sat around waiting for her.

He hoisted Ganondorf onto his hip, the little boy clinging to the Poe, and stepped outside of his room. He swayed unsteadily for a moment-the cast was _heavy_ , and his headache grew even worse.

“Excuse me-?” He asked, grabbing hold of the arm of a passing nurse, startling her.

“I am sorry, but could you tell me where my belongings are?” She blinked at him uncomprehendingly, then looked at the door behind him, half-open. Understanding suddenly flooded her face.

“Oh, you aren’t supposed to leave-“

“Where are my belongings?” Sheik repeated, interrupting her. Ganondorf let out a gurgle and the Poe flitted free of his grip, bursting alight when it spotted the Hylian. She blanched.

“The front desk-“

“ _What do you think you’re doing_?” Ganondorf let out a squeal, which startled Sheik more than Elder Midna’s voice did.

He let out a slow breath and turned to face her, bowing as best he could with a child on his hip.

“You shouldn’t be up. You are aware you’re injured, correct?”

“Yes, _Delr_ Midna.”

“Impa has your things. Why are you carrying a baby?”

“Marin is interrogating. I am watching Ganon for her. I apologize if he causes any sort if inconvenience, _Delr_ Midna.”

She was more intimidating than Impa was. She was tall enough to tower over even Gerudo, and had curves that some Gerudo envied. She, like Impa, spat in the face of tradition and wore Gerudo-style clothing, colored in traditional Sheikah colors and emblazoned with the Bleeding Eye. Her flame-colored hair was twisted into a thick braid that ran parallel to her spine, as Sheik’s did. There was a permanent expression of contempt in her eyes, and he was greeted with the full force of that as she signed growing irritation to him.

 “If the child cries during the questioning…” She left the threat hanging, though both of them knew it was empty. She was not a cruel woman, only practical. She was, perhaps, Sheik’s favorite enemy-not that it made him any less scared of her.

“He will behave.”

“He’d better. The only reason you’re still alive is because your aunt has sworn to break open the Shadow Temple if we kill you. Now come.”

She spun on her heel sharply and strode off, leaving Sheik to limp as quickly as he could after her-when had he injured his leg? And had Impa _really_ said that?

“ _Sheik_ …”

“I am coming, _Delr_ Midna.” He squared his shoulders and hurried after her.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

               When Sheik was young, he used to toddle his way into Byrne and Marin’s room at night and curl up with Marin before falling asleep. Not because he had nightmares, but because he was lonely. Never Byrne-Byrne was many things but he was the first to admit he was not comforting-but Byrne had been the one to rattle off stories or teach Sheik how to disarm an opponent, and because of that he and Marin had become the closest thing to family Sheik ever had.

Their parents had been ideal Sheikah-eleven children, Sheik being the youngest, successful in every mission they were given, powerful, and two of the most respected Elders in all Hyrule. Their home had been teaming with children growing up. Everyone had at least two roommates beside he and Marin, except for Sheik. Sheik had always been isolated-their parents had made sure of it. They had been deeply traditional-believed that Sheik should have died the moment he was born because of the Mark of Wisdom. When Impa fought them on it what had essentially been a political war had broken out amongst the Sheikah, and it had nearly killed Sheik that his parents had sided against him.

Byrne hadn’t made things any better. It hadn’t a question of whether or not Sheik should die, it had just been whether or not he was a good Sheikah that had bothered Byrne. When their parents died and Malladus took Byrne full time, he had gone two years without any contact with his younger brother. Then Marin had sent a letter demanding he get his ass back to Hyrule, as Impa was trying to adopt Sheik and everything was going to shit. Byrne had indulged her, though Malladus had been pissed about it, and the first thing he’d done to the tiny waif of a child who only just recognized him as his brother was test him.

Despite the fact Sheik had never had any formal training-things were too rocky to assign him a real mentor, so all of the Elders sort of shuffled him about, teaching him a little at a time-he had impressed Byrne. Sheik knew more about the Sheikah way of life and how to handle himself than most children older than him. He _deserved_ to be a Sheikah.

Since, Byrne had tried to make amends for not being there earlier. Sheik was one of the best now, but if Byrne had never abandoned the boy, he could have been _the_ best. The matter of Sheik was the only thing Malladus had agreed with him on without a fight, either-his Elder had watched Sheik’s progress enough to be fully impressed. So things had swayed in Sheik’s favor, and Impa became his legal guardian, and Sheik befriended Ravio, and Midna began instructing him when Impa or Dampè weren’t.

Byrne honestly only wanted his brother safe.

Which was why he was glaring at Marin and fighting back the urge to attack her.

“Are you fucking _insane?_ Do you know who the fuck that kid is?” Her eyes flashed.

“Of course I did! I checked before I brought this up to Midna!”

“ _You brought it up to Elder Midna?!”_

“He needs a friend, Byrne! For Nayru’s sake, Ravio doesn’t even know what his favorite color is and you _know_ Hilda doesn’t let him make friends with anyone at the studio! He’s sixteen!”

“And _he’s_ a fucking idol. Do you know how much publicity-“

“I checked that too! He avoids all of it!”

“Marin-“

“And he knows how to fight! Think about it! This kid’ll protect Sheik when we can’t because we _both_ know I can’t be his _Nahscliah_ and you’ll be too busy with Elder Malladus to be there unless it’s necessary. He’s already saved Sheik’s life once, and they were total strangers!”

“Which makes it even more suspicious! He could have been in on it! He could be hoping you’d be this stupid so that they can launch another attack! And what if the Elders make the decision halfway through this shit? Sheik’ll be dead and that kid in there will have a friend who was murdered by his people and no answers! Are you really going to be that cruel to him?” Byrne had to bite back the instinct to apologize for his final words-he really didn’t give a shit about the kid, but that just seemed _harsh_ , even for Marin.

“I don’t give a fuck about the kid! I care about the fact Sheik has _no one_ and never has! If that kid gives him that, then yes, even if he ends up dying at least he’ll have had _someone,_ and at least he’ll have _lived!_ ”

“Those kids from Termina-“

“We _both_ know why he hangs out with them and anyway, he only ever talks to them online. They don’t count.” Byrne was out of arguments, running out of steam, and Marin knew it.

“We’ll have to keep an eye on the kid anyway, this way you have an excuse. Sheik won’t introduce himself to anyone anyway and you _know_ how badly he needs this. The kid will protect him. And if this doesn’t work I won’t push it but _please_ , Byrne, just give it a chance. All we’ll do is switch the school and assign you his _Nahscliah_ , and we’ll both go in and interrogate the kid.”

Byrne knew Marin well enough to know that this wasn’t something she would ever let go-and…she was right. Sheik’s isolation had always been a matter of concern to him, but no one had thought there was anything to be done about it. Sheik had always been told that befriending someone would be the cruelest possible thing he could do to them, because once someone learned to care for him they would miss him when the Elders finally came to a decision and killed him. Anyone else would have thought it ridiculous and just made a friend by now, but Sheik was so damned cautious the thought had never crossed his mind. Even Girahim bothered Sheik’s conscience, and he was Byrne’s acquaintance, not Sheik’s.

“Please, Byrne. You saw what the Gerudo did for him. He was never as open with anyone as he was when he was in the desert. He was almost _happy_.”

“Then he should have left-“

“He _wants_ to do this. Caring for the dead has been his dream since he was little and he loves working at the studio. He wouldn’t give that up, especially knowing that Anjean would have his head.” The vehemence in Marin’s voice wasn’t lost on him, and he wisely gave up. Leaving the Sheikah had been hard for her, but she’d had little choice-she saw it as a personal matter and would just get pissed the longer he stuck on that.

And it wasn’t like Marin’s plan would work, anyway. She would just be putting Sheik in a situation far more dangerous than even the Elders would be willing to put him in. But…Byrne would have an excuse to kill the kid if he _was_ an enemy.

But she was so fanciful, such a dreamer. As if putting Sheik in a more dangerous position with a total stranger and hoping their timid, cautious little brother would gather the courage to speak to that stranger-especially when the stranger had seen him so vulnerable-would bear any fruit. Sheik’s gift was the Power of Wisdom, not Courage, and for good reason.

The door behind them opened and Byrne spun quickly, arm snapping out to his side reflexively. A Hylian police officer stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the limb.

Byrne wasn’t good with the dead-he was too callous. He’d gone down to the Shadow Temple for his Ceremony, to be accepted as an adult Sheikah, and pissed off everything in it. Being as fickle as they were, they’d ripped off his arm, to Malladus’ great amusement. It had been replaced, molding Sheikah magic to Terminian technology, thanks to Malladus. Byrne totally forgot that it wasn’t a real arm until moments like that, when a Hylian glared at him or Sheik lectured him on what he’d lost to gain it.

“What?” His Hylian was heavily accented-his argument with Marin had upset him.

“They’re…the…uh…the kid’s ready for you.”

“About time.” Marin muttered, pushing past the both of them on her way out of the room. They’d been sitting in a private room at the Kakariko Police Department for the past hour, since he’d arrived. It had been a week since the attack and the kid who’d saved Sheik had been brought in for questioning by the Hylian law enforcement. Byrne had demanded to speak to him-he had the right to-and they’d brought him in again for a third, and final, round of questioning.

That being said, the Elders had no idea he was even in Hyrule. If they found out they’d be pissed. Especially since he wasn’t asking them for permission for what he and Marin were about to do. Well, actually, Elder Midna might know-Marin _had_ mentioned her.

The kid looked up when they entered, halfway through raking a gloved hand through his blonde hair. Byrne met his gaze and glared, while Marin chirruped a hello. He sat in a steel chair on one side of a metal table, two empty chairs waiting on their side of it.

“Is he alright?” The kid asked immediately, gaze flinching away from Byrne’s and moving to Marin. He was anxious.

“Nah, don’t ask questions. Byrne’s already angry enough as is. But, yeah, Sheik’s fine.” Some of the tension in his posture drained away at Marin’s conformation, and Byrne felt whatever conviction he’d held that this boy was a part of the attack start to trickle away.

Unless they _hadn’t_ been trying to kill Sheik, despite what they’d said to him.

“What’s your name?” Byrne growled, glancing away from him, to Marin, as she tugged one of the chairs free of the table and raised a pointed eyebrow at him. He ignored her as she dropped down into it.

“Link Elne.”

“What were you doing at the graveyard?”

“Visiting my grandma. I was really late getting there and I was gonna spend the night with her but Dampè wasn’t there. And then Sheik told me he was dead.”

“You knew Elder Dampè?” He asked the question sharply, taking a step closer to the table. The kid, Link, nodded.

“My grandma died years back, and I visit her whenever I can. I’d take Aryll, my little sister, with me. And Dampè doted on her. And I know that that’s against Sheikah rules or whatever but he was family, you know?” The grief in his eyes was palpable, but other than that and the subdued tone of his voice, there were no other visible signs of sorrow.

“Sheik said you weren’t too upset about his death.” Byrne countered. Link’s eyes narrowed, hardened.

“He’s not the only family who’s died on me, and I try not to bawl in front of strangers. That a crime?” He’d struck a nerve.

“ _Byrne…”_

“Listen here, you little fuck. If I don’t like what I hear from you, I will kill you. Piss me off and I won’t do that nicely.” Despite the fact his words were furious, his voice and posture were entirely relaxed. Marin was giving him her best glare-the kid was already upset, making him worry about mixed messages was entirely unnecessary.

Link glared at him, pushing himself more upright in his chair.

“Look, I’d never seen those kids before and I gave the cops as good of a description of what they looked like as I could. There’s nothing I haven’t already told you.” It clearly wasn’t what the kid wanted to say, but his tone was civil enough.

“Byrne, sit down.” He obeyed Marin without a thought, glancing down at his arm as he did so. The bandages he usually kept wrapped around it were loose-no wonder the Hylian had looked so shocked-and he absently began rewinding them.

An hour passed by, most of which was spent arguing-Byrne telling the kid he didn’t believe him when the kid insisted he had nothing to do with the attack, Marin telling him to play nice or the kid to shut the fuck up and listen. Link confirmed everything Byrne had already been told, repeating his same story word for word despite the pressure he was putting on the kid. It ended with an awkward, tense silence, Byrne and Link glaring at one another while Marin let out an occasional dramatic sigh.

Byrne finally broke the silence with a laugh. The kid froze, startled.

“Damn, kid, if I really thought you were a serious threat to Sheik I’d have killed you the day of the attack.”

The door opened behind him, and Byrne craned his head around to look. A massive behemoth of a Sheikah pushed his way into the room, ruby eyes narrow.

“Bastard.” Malladus’ voice was little more than a growl.

“I left a note. Anyway, I’m done. Wrap up, Marin.” She kicked him as he stood up-he knew better than to try and avoid it.

“You’re babysitting next week. All week. Ganondorf needs to spend some quality time with his other uncle and _I_ have date night. Link, say goodbye to Byrne. Hi, Malladus. How’s Anjean?” Link, unsurprisingly, didn’t say a word.

“Not dead yet.” Malladus grunted, nodding his head to her. Surprisingly, Malladus got along very well with Marin. Better than Byrne got along with him. And Marin _knew_ , really genuinely knew, too.

“Aw. Well, behave next week for Ganondorf. And don’t be too mad at him, alright?”

“I left a note!” They ignored him.

“Ikana woke last week. That this kid’s fault?” Malladus switched to Sheikah, folding his arms across his chest.

“No, if anything the kid’s the reason Ikana didn’t do more than wake. Sheik got his ass kicked and all of Kakariko about ripped him apart trying to get at his attackers. Shadow Temple’s going nuts too-that’s why we’re here. Impa’s been down there three days and all the local Elders are still down there now.”

“Anything break free?” Malladus asked, frowning.

“Yeah. The graveyard’s a mess. Sheik’s still confined to his room, though, so he can’t go fix it. Not ‘till the Elders can keep the Temple hidden and all that. Dead Hands are banging at the gates and all the Gibdos are howling like it’s a fucking full moon. Scared even Midna, and you know how she is…” Marin trailed off, expression grave as she shrugged.

“Anyway, behave _helrhnearih_.” She finished, speaking Hylian as she flapped a hand at them. Malladus’ gaze met Byrne’s when he turned to the door, and Byrne let his shoulders droop as he sighed.

He’d been looking forward to seeing how far Sheik had progressed since his last visit, then sleeping for the foreseeable future. But, no.

To the graveyard they went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helrhnesaht--roughly "my beloved nephew"  
> nereih--"My aunt"  
> Helrhnearih--roughly "my beloved brother"  
> Rheshae--again, see chapter 3! I promise I'm not saying that to be a dick.  
> Neleur--"My sister"  
> Luihn--roughly means "exiled". Sort of like being disowned by one's family, except much more serious/binding--it literally removes blood relation from the family and the one who has been 'exiled'--they are literally no longer family.  
> Delr--I think this was addressed in context in the first chapter, but it means 'Elder'.  
> Nahscliah--also addressed in chapter 3, but roughly "guardian". Like a chaperone, basically.  
> ***  
> Let me know if I'm not making this clear enough or something for you, or if I forget something!!


	3. Chapter 3

               He was far more nervous than he should have been, and it showed. His fingers kept clenching around his hips, where sheaths would ordinarily be resting, and Sheik’s gaze wouldn’t focus on any one object-he kept seeking entrances and exits and threats and-

“ _Ow!”_ Bryne lowered his arm, offering Sheik the grim sort of smile he was notorious for. Sheik rubbed the back of his head hesitantly, almost expecting to feel blood.

“Stop panicking. You’ll be fine.”

“This place is _ridiculously_ built. There’s no-“

“It’s good for you. Easier to escape if a threat charges in. Look on the bright side, Sheik. You’ll be going here for two years.” Bryne sounded as ridiculously pleased with that as the architecture of the school.

Sheik’s shoulders drooped at his older brother’s reminder.

“Sadist.”

“Maybe.”

Bryne was accompanying him as his _Nahscliah_ , a sort of guardian charged with keeping a group of Sheikah entering their second _Rheshae_ safe. It was thanks to Impa’s string pulling that Bryne had snagged the position. Sheik probably would have needed a _Nahscliah_ to protect him from his _Nahscliah_ if it hadn’t have been Bryne, to be honest. It wasn’t just the Elders that didn’t like him.

“Can’t I just skip this? They know I’m going to stay.”

“Midna wants to torture you-she insisted. Anjean voted for assassination, if it makes you feel any better. Malladus said they should send you to Ikana.” Bryne replied cheerfully. Sheik’s eyes went wide.

“That would be like dropping me into the Shadow Temple. Everything would wake.” Byrne shot him an amused look, then hurriedly tried to wipe it off his face.

“Which is why we don’t let you go to Termina. But I think Malladus could keep you under wraps.” As Bryne spoke, he flexed his metal arm-a marvel of what Sheikah could do when they applied their magic to Terminian technology. It was drawing eyes from across the hall, even thought it was mostly empty and it was hidden beneath bandages. Malladus had given it to Bryne when he’d finished his training. It was the sort of gift that wasn’t really a gift-Bryne had finally achieved the title of Elder, and Malladus had offered him a chance to go back down the scale, to start from zero again, if Bryne was willing to remain Malladus’ apprentice. Bryne hadn’t even thought about whether or not to accept it.

“I’d rather apprentice myself to Elder Midna.” Sheik replied, halting in front of a door with the room number _H203_ etched onto the side. Bryne laughed at his remark-but it didn’t change Sheik’s opinion of Malladus.

 “Here’s your paper-it’s got the rooms rewritten in Sheikah, so don’t panic. Try not to brag about your illiteracy. I’m going back to the main office. ” Bryne yawned, handing him a small, neatly folded square of paper. A ghost of a smile touched Sheik’s lips beneath his cowl and he took it, offering a short bow.

“Two years, Sheik. And speak Hylian, for Nayru’s sake!” Bryne added the last bit in a hiss as Sheik tugged the door open. His brother’s words made Sheik freeze, heart stopping as he realized they had been speaking Sheikah the entire time.

Heads turned to look at him, a sea of strange Hylians who eyed him like Sheikah eyed weapons. It was disconcerting, but not entirely unfamiliar.

He wished wildly that the Elders weren’t so determined to see him fail. Eldin Springs was a more prestigious high school than Kakariko High-it was private and hand incredibly high entrance exam standards-but its faculty and students were far less accepting of Sheikah than Kakariko High, the school almost all Sheikah in Kakariko Province were sent to for their second _Rheshae_. Sheik could barely speak Hylian fluently, and they expected him to impress some of the most racist bigots in all Hyrule for _two years_?

_Two years?_

He stepped through the door, grabbing his nerves and shoving them aside as brutally as he could. He heard Bryne humming softly to himself as he walked off, and he hesitantly touched his throat, feeling the soft warmth of the blue Poe beneath his cowl.

It hadn’t left his side since the incident a month ago, especially after Byrne had tried to calm down the graveyard-shouting that Sheik wasn’t coming back until everything went back to sleep had only panicked them more. He took comfort in its presence then, making certain that it was hidden from view, and masked the movement with a short bow directed at the teacher.

 “Ah, come in, come in.” The Hylian was ancient, offering him a craggy smile that seemed to be genuine. Sheik closed the door quietly behind him, glancing across the room at the windows. Six of them, lined up on the far wall. Seven rows of desks, five desks deep, between him and the windows. Not all of the desks were filled-only about two thirds.

“I apologize for the interruption.” Sheik said softly, meeting the teacher’s green eyes.

“No need, no need. Why don’t you introduce yourself to the class? They just finished doing so themselves.” The Hylian motioned for him to come closer, and not wanting to insult him, Sheik approached until he was an arm’s length away-close, to Sheikah meeting strangers. Thankfully, the elderly Hylian seemed to understand and didn’t reach out.

Sheik looked out across the group of frantically whispering Hylians, amusement in his eyes as they tried to discreetly point at him.

 “I am Sheik of the Sheikah. I am here for my second _Rheshae_. Before anyone asks, no, I am not armed.” Sheik said dryly, seeing a handful of hands hedging for the air. The hands disappeared and a scattering of laughter sounded.

He’d remembered some passing comment Impa had made when she’d returned from a trip, that Hylians always expected her to be armed. The fact that she was, she’d snapped when he’d commented on it, had nothing to do with it.

“What’s a _rhahshah?”_   Sheik winced at the mispronunciation, but made eye contact with the speaker-a Hylian girl with choppily cut blonde hair.

“ _Rheshae_. The life of a Sheikah is not easy. We are given a chance to leave, if we so wish. We spend two years in the desert with the Gerudo, and two years in our home province with the local Hylians. At any point during those years we are allowed to leave.”

Eyes grew round. Before anyone could ask any further questions, the teacher laughed, though not meanly.

“Alright, go find a seat-I think there’s an empty one next to Ashei.” Sheik blinked at the blue-haired Hylian girl that half-heartedly waved a hand, and let out a slow breath as he wove through the desks, dropping down into the empty seat. Some of his anxiety melted.

This wasn’t _so_ bad, he supposed.

“You’ll be sitting there for the rest of the year. Now, if you haven’t already read your schedule, this is Advanced Magic. I’ll pass out permission slips on your way out, which your guardians need to sign before you can begin classes-what you’ll learn here might kill you. Now talk amongst yourself, and don’t bother the new student, until the bell rings. Keep the volume down!” The last was a shout, and in vain, as an eruption of chatter began immediately. It made him feel small, how late he was to this class and how quickly they had already progressed.

The blue-haired girl turned to him after enough time had passed to make him acutely aware of the stares-intentional, if Sheik had to guess.

“Are you a duelist?” She asked, voice curt, but not exactly unfriendly. He stared at her helplessly, signing confusion before mentally smacking himself.

“I do not know what it is you are asking.”

“Eldin Springs is huge on dueling-magic, weapon, debate, whatever. Most students who go here do so too, yeah? We’ve got some of the top duelists in the world here, and we’ve got tons of awards-didn’t you see them by the office when you came in? Are you dueling?” She sounded eager. Looking for a challenge, Sheik supposed. Sheik laughed, not meanly. Her accent placed her somewhere north of the Zora’s Domain, telling him she wasn’t a native to Hyrule, though she _was_ Hylian.

“No, and I do not think it would be fair of me to do so.”

“Cocky, yeah?” She asked, arching an eyebrow, though her eyes lit up.

“I have been training in battle since I could walk. I am not an expert on Hylian culture but I do not believe you do the same.” He spoke quietly, but some of the others sitting around him could still hear his words, and made it known by inching away, exchanging looks.

He hoped Ravio was getting along better than he was.

She laid her palms flat against her desk, visibly struggling with a sudden burst of excitement. It startled him, until he realized she was probably a duelist as well.

“Will you duel me?”

“I cannot.”

“How come?!” She demanded, protest written clearly in her expression. He signed an apology.

“It is forbidden. If you ask Ravio he may duel you, but I do not know where he is.”

“Who’s he?” She asked, brightening considerably as she turned so she faced him fully.

“My cousin’s _tyah._ They are both here for their _Rheshae_ as well.”

“Really? So it’s kinda like a fieldtrip, yeah? Do you know how I can find him? He’s a good duelist, right? Not just some punk?” Sheik laughed softly, signing amusement.

“My brother, Byrne, is in the main office. He should know. He may be…difficult. But, yes, Ravio is a skilled fighter. He usually fights with a…battle partner, I believe you call it, so one-on-one will be a little out of his element.” A grin, slow and satisfied, worked its way across her face. Sheik realized he may have worded that incorrectly. Ravio could probably beat the girl senseless without really trying even without Hilda, if Byrne’s opinion of Hylians and their fighting prowess was correct.

“So, the office, yeah? Didn’t really want to go to second hour anyway. Got Auru for Bio, and he’s a bit harsh, yeah?” She said it conspiratorially, and leaned back in her seat.

“You got any dueling classes, though?” Sheik nodded.

“At the end of the day.” He absently pulled out his schedule and smoothed it down, gaze flicking down to the paper as one hand covered Byrne’s messy scrawl.

“Ah, Grayblade? You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, do you Sheikah?” She said, laughing. He signed helpless confusion to her, alarmed by her response.

“Sorry. Grayblade’s got issues with the Sheikah, has for a while. He wants to be the best, and the Sheikah don’t train outsiders, yeah? He’ll be unfair with you. Hope you get yourself a good partner, ‘cause you’ll need it.” There was a sympathy in her eyes that didn’t touch her words, and Sheik forced himself to calm down. He was getting too worked up over her words.

“Should introduce myself, huh? You’re name was Sheik, yeah? I’m Ashei. Training to join the Zora Guard up in Snowpeak.” Sheik blinked, then smiled warmly, a true smile. _That_ was where she was from. A friend of Ruto’s, then. Ruto never let a prospective Guard go long without knowing her well. They would, after all, be protecting her borders. He almost asked about her, but caught himself just in time. It would raise too many questions.

“What do you fight with? I like rapiers, but up in Snowpeak explosives work best.” She mimed an explosion with her hands, flashing him a grin.

“I have been trained in all forms of combat.” It didn’t mean he was proficient in any or all of them, but Sheik had working knowledge of most weapons. His words were chosen carefully-like all Sheikah he had created his own ‘style’, picking and choosing the things he was best at and melding them together. His just happened to be more nonsensical than others-even Ravio considered it ridiculous, though he still beat the other boy easily. Ashei smirked, apparently catching the way he’d worded it.

A sharp ringing echoed throughout the room, startling him, and Ashei let out an explosive sigh as she stood up.

“That’s the bell, yeah? I’ll go find your buddy, then. Thanks! Good luck with the rest of your classes.” The last was added as an afterthought, and she swept from the room quickly. Sheik folded his schedule up with a soft smile, tucking it away. He’d no idea where his next class was, but Ashei had soothed a number of his concerns. Not everyone would be as friendly as she was, but at least not everyone wanted to kill him.

It was sort of weird, honestly.

He slipped out of the classroom behind  the rest of the class, offering a short bow to the teacher, and ghosted his way along the halls as he sought a room that would look like that he searched for-whatever it looked like. A second bell rang out, faster and brighter than the first, and Sheik gave up with an explosive sigh as students emptied from the hall as if by magic, the rush of noise tapering away.

He turned a corner, muttering something Byrne would have hit him for in Sheikah-

-he hit someone.

 “ _Theh_.” Sheik signed an apology as he stumbled back a step, startled, and froze.

The Hylian he’d run into-what was his name again?-looked at him for a moment before suddenly grinning.

“I heard we were gonna get some Sheikah students this year, but I didn’t think you’d be one of them. Are you alright being out of a cast and all that?” He asked curiously, glancing at Sheik’s arm-very much not encased in plaster. Sheik shrugged-his name had been Link, hadn’t it?

“The Sheikah use magic to heal unless there are complications. There were none.” Besides being grounded for letting everything in the entire graveyard loose, that was. Most of the last month had been spent putting everything to rest and assuring the dead that he was fine, with Malladus glowering over his shoulder. This _Rheshae_ had almost been a relief, to get away from the Elder-and Byrne. Byrne had tried, and failed, to calm the dead down by traditional means with Malladus while Sheik was healing, and so he’d resorted to telling them stories about Sheik when he was little. Telling everyone within earshot anything and everything about Sheik’s childhood had become his latest hobby, and Sheik hated it.

“Doesn’t that mess with the bones or whatnot, though? I thought the more you use magic to heal the higher your tolerance grows.”

_Shit_. Sheik signed discomfort and mentally apologized to Elder Midna, and shrugged.

“You attend school here?” Marin was right-he had _no_ social skills. Amusement lit the Hylian’s face, but Link went along with Sheiks entirely translucent change in conversation.

“So do you believe me about the branch thing yet?” Sheik stared at him blankly.

“…I do not know what you are talking about.” Link rolled his eyes.

“I said I chased those guys off with a branch. I duel here-if I _hadn’t_ been able to do that Grayblade would have my head on a platter.”

“You duel?” Sheik couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice, and he ducked his head and flushed when it came out far more prominent than he’d thought it would.

“Are you trying to offend me?”

“What-No-!” His head snapped up, horrified.

“”Oh, jeez, calm down-I’m joking. I know you’re not, it’s alright!” Link looked panicked. Unsure as to what to do, Sheik squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sigh, sagging against the wall behind him.

“Anyway, why is that so surprising? Are you calling me out of shape or something?” There was a teasing note in Link’s voice.

“ _No!”_ Sheik burst out laughing as he shook his head. A second bell rang out, longer and slower than the second, and an expression of absolute terror overtook the Hylian’s face.

“Please tell me I can show you around?”

“I barely know where the office is.” Sheik deadpanned. A grin flickered across Link’s face, relieved, and he held out a hand.

“Is it alright if I see your schedule then?” Sheik hesitated a moment, but produced the somewhat crumbled square of paper. Link snatched it from him like a child would candy and unfolded it. His eyes lighted on the Sheikah scrawl besides the printed words, but he said nothing and his eyes moved on almost immediately-a relief for Sheik.

“…Auru with Bio for second hour? I’ve got that too. Charlo with Religious History for third…Well, Shad might have that. Embrose with strings for fourth, we have the same lunch and we both have Potho for Compositions at fifth hour….Why do you have Geometry?” Sheik, again, flushed.

“My elder brother signed me up for classes. I had no say in the matter.” Math wasn’t his strong suite, but he was fairly certain Bryne had signed him up for it as a mercy-Sheik had already taken a similar lesson beneath Impa the year before and passed, so it would be little more than review. He signed defensiveness, bewilderment, and Link eyed him curiously for a moment before shrugging.

“We can go to the office and get your class switched so you can get something fun. And seventh hour-Grayblade with Advanced Weaponry! Hey, you’re dueling too?”

 “I am not. I am interested in how Hylians learn to wield their weapons.” He said softly, shrugging his shoulders. Link stared at him, amusement lighting his eyes to a paler shade of blue.

“Cool. I’ve got that class with you too. Do you know anybody in your other classes?” Sheik nodded.

“Ravio is in my Religious History and both he and my cousin are in my Compositions class. And a girl, Ashei, said she had my Biology class as well.”

“Who’s Ravio? Oh, never mind. Another Sheikah, right? And you’ve met Ashei already? I’m sorry. She’s kind of…well, blunt would be putting it lightly.” Link rubbed the back of his head as he flashed a sheepish grin.

“Are you related?”

“No, but she’s…well, _close_ , to my…friend. They grew up together, so we sort of hang out a bit. She gets overwhelming, and she’s been dying to fight one of you.” It was said apologetically, and Sheik tilted his head curiously. He hadn’t gotten that from his meeting with Ashei.

“Well, anyway, follow me. I’ll find you a map at lunch-this place is huge. I’ve been going here since middle school and I still have absolutely no idea where half the rooms are. It’s awesome when we play hide-and-seek, though ‘cause Shad can do finding spells but not tracking spells and I just run around the place until I get lost and need him to come find me.” Link turned and began walking away as he rambled, and Sheik followed, content to listen to him talk.

“So how’ve you been doing since the attack? The graveyard’s been totally shut down since, and the guy with the metal arm chased me out when I went to visit. You’re alright?” Sheik stumbled, surprised.

“Byrne..? The bastard…I am sorry. He has been as annoying as he possibly can be, lately. The cemetery was only closed for a week.” Sheik flushed again when the Hylian turned and gave him a startled look at his language-it wasn’t that Sheik _didn’t_ swear, he just didn’t do it _often_ , and never when he wasn’t annoyed.

“So you two are close?”

“He is my older brother.” Link stumbled to a halt, then suddenly laughed as he resumed walking.

“That actually explains a lot. He really cares about you, you know that?” Sheik stared at him blankly-when had Byrne talked to-?

Oh. Marin must have gone with him to interrogate Link a second time.

Sheik let out a noncommittal sound and Link finally came to a stop beside a door, gesturing dramatically to it.

“This is the Bio room. Auru is terrifying, and we’re screwed because we’re like, five minutes late, and-“ Sheik tugged open the door and nudged Link in ahead of him. Link let out a squeak, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room.

The biology room was larger than the first classroom had been, filled with tables with sinks and faucets built into their surfaces, each occupied by three students hunched over metal stools. Various scientific apparatus he had no names for or ideas as to their purpose cluttered the walls-all of it windowless-and florescent lights blazed from above. An elderly Hylian eyed them irritably from in front of a chalkboard.

“I was showing Sheik around, I swear-“

“Sit down, master Link, I don’t care. I’ll let you off this once, being the generous man I am. Sheik, is it? The only open seats are with Shad in the back. Welcome to Eldin Springs. I am Professor Auru.” Sheik decided that he liked this teacher, and he offered the man a short bow before following Link to the back of the class. The only table with two spots open was occupied by a tall, lanky Hylian boy with a shock of auburn hair and glasses. Shad, Sheik assumed.

“Was he actually showing you around?” The boy asked, once Sheik had sat down. He nodded, amused.

“Hi, Shad.” Link droned, slumping onto the other empty stool. Sheik cast an uncomfortable look around-there were no entrances or exits to the entire room, besides the one door they’d entered. Not even any windows.

“I am Sheik. You are Shad?” The boy nodded, adjusting his glasses as Sheik signed a greeting.

“Um, yeah. Do…Uh, do you have a last name or do I just call you-?” Sheiks’ eyes widened a fraction and he violently shook his head.

“Ah, Sageblood. My aunt…” He trailed off, tugging his cowl up nervously. To his surprise, the boy just grinned.

“Cool. So your house must be fun when _Lahvyrraen_ rolls around. That’s like in, what, two months?” Sheik let out a startled burst of laughter, more at Shad’s correct pronunciation of the word than the fact he knew about the Sheikah holiday. The tension lingering around Sheik vanished.

“Your Sheikah…?” He inquired.

“I study history. And languages are fun to learn-I’m rusty and learned online via someone who wasn’t supposed to tell me, though.”

“I’m lost.” Link declared, blinking at the two of them curiously.

“Sheikah aren’t allowed to teach outsiders anything. Technically. There are ways around it.” Shad replied.

“….Alright, so Shad knows stuff he shouldn’t and there _is_ a legitimate reason as to why I’m scared of your aunt. So did we miss anything important?” It was startling how quickly Link moved on, but it was refreshing, to be entirely honest. Sheik eyed him curiously.

“Uh, we’re stuck together all year long. Today’s a free day. We’re expected to know what we’re doing and what we’re going to do and the rules. And we’re not supposed to bother Sheik.” Shad added, pointing at him. Link brightened.

“That’s great. So, basically, don’t kill, maim, set someone on fire, use magic, or vomit. Be here on time, take your own notes, there are no books, and don’t annoy Auru too much.” Link added, glancing furtively at the teacher.

“Link, leave him alone.”

“Shad, I love the old guy too, but he’s scary as fuck. You don’t mess with Auru. Which is advice to live on, by the way, Sheik.” Sheik tilted his head curiously.

“Are you related to the professor?” Shad nodded, face turning a brilliant shade of red.

“He’s my grandfather. He isn’t really one for biology-last teacher quit last minute and they stuck him on this position because there wasn’t anyone else qualified.”

“Auru teaches history too. You should try listening to them have a conversation.” Link said, laughing.

“So what classes do you have after this?” Shad asked both of them, rolling his eyes at Link. Link pulled out a crumpled was of paper and dropped it dramatically into the center of the table. Sheik made no move to follow suite, and both of them looked at him curiously. He smiled and signed an apology.

“You study languages. My schedule is rewritten in Sheikah.” Shad shrugged and began prodding at Link’s paper.

“I read it. Not the Sheikah stuff but the Hylian stuff. He’s got Charlo next hour, then Embrose, then lunch, then Potho, then Dina for Geometry-but hopefully not for long-then Grayblade with me. I’ve got Grayblade all day except for sixth hour ‘cause I’ve got Algebra Two with Dina and this hour and Potho. Took all my other necessary stuff over the summer!” Link chirruped, stretching his arms. Shad brightened.

“I’ve got Charlo with you next hour, Sheik, and we all have Potho. I’ve got Link’s math class too. How many Grayblade classes are you taking, Link?” Shad asked reproachfully.

“All of them!” Link grinned. He sounded ridiculously pleased by the statement.

“This Grayblade, then, is a…hard teacher?” Sheik asked hesitantly, glancing at Shad.

“He likes Link ‘cause he’s the best, but he’s gonna hate you. He’s racist and he has a long history of issues with the Sheikah. He loathes the idea of you guys coming here, and hates it when people show him up if he doesn’t like them. Be careful-like, very much extremely so. Link might be able to buffer him or something, maybe.” Shad’s voice was tentative and his gaze hesitant as it flickered to Link briefly.

“Yeah. Don’t think you’ll need it.” Link added, offering Sheik a tight, small sort of smile.

 “So how long are you going to be going here?” Sheik looked away from Link, to Shad, surprised by the subject change. It must have been an uncomfortable subject for Link, Sheik realized.

“Two years.” Sheik hummed.

“So you’ll be graduating with us?” Link asked him curiously.

“Yes. We take lessons from our guardians-ah, homeschooled, you call it, correct? This is for the cultural experience, to give us a chance to leave the Sheikah if we want to.” Sheik shrugged.

“Do we really have that much of a culture?” Link asked, sounded bemused. Sheik eyed him curiously, frowning.

“Of course.”

“Is it really that dangerous, though?” Shad asked softly, and Sheik looked at him seriously.

“The average lifespan of a Hylian is, what, seventy? Sheikah are incredibly lucky if we live to our thirties. Being a Sheikah is not something you are born into. It requires commitment. When a Sheikah swears their oath, they are literally dedicating their life to protecting Hyrule. So we are given the option to leave, to find something elsewhere. Two years with the Gerudo, where most of us go, and two years with the Hylians.”

“How many leave for us?” Shad asked, curiously. Sheik shrugged.

“Please do not take this the wrong way, but it is considered a great dishonor to leave during our Hylian _Rheshae_.”

“So we suck?”

“Of course we do. We’re like the kids of Hyrule.” Shad snorted.

“And that makes the Sheikah what? Our babysitters?”

“Mm-hm.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It isn’t _technically_ our fault. Hyrule shares it borders with a country on nearly every side, and our treaties dissolved any military force ‘cept for the Royal Guard. The Sheikah act in their stead-a loophole, basically. And the Zora guard Snowpeak ‘cause that’s in their territory, so…” Shad trailed off, shrugging. Link rolled his eyes at him, and Sheik eyed him curiously.

“So Sheik met Ashei.” Link drawled, abruptly changing the subject.

“Did she try to get you to-“ Shad’s eyes focused on something behind him, as he trailed off, and Sheik automatically flinched as hands dropped onto his shoulders.

“I’m going to kill you, my dear _vraterhn_.” Hilda crooned, voice pleasant, but her fingers dug deeply into his flesh. He shrugged out of her grip, turning to face her. It was a struggle to keep his composure, from flinching at the face of Hilda’s rage.

“Was he hurt?”

“That’s beside the point.” She said, scowling. Strands of her hair had come loose from its bun-like her mother, Hilda forsook traditional style and wore her long hair up. She kept it unbraided, to signify her engagement, and wore a _heih_ outfit colored a dark purple, the same as her hair. Sheik had made the mistake of teasing her about it that morning-at least he had the sense to wear a dark blue shirt and brown pants-and she’d tried to beat him senseless.

“Did he hurt her?”

“ _Sheik_ -“

“Ravio is fine. He was probably more excited about it than she was.”

“Fuck yeah I was! She almost kicked my ass ‘fore I realized she was serious!” Ravio slammed into the table beside Sheik with a grunt of pain, then scrambled to sit on top of it and began kicking his legs idly. He almost hit Shad in the process, who frantically scooted his stool closer to Link to avoid being struck.

 Ravio was more excited than Sheik had thought he’d be, which was saying something. Hilda folded her arms over her chest and glared at the both of them.

“I could not duel her. She wanted a fight, and Ravio loves challenges.”

“C’mon, _tyae-“_

_“_ No.”

“She’s just jealous ‘cause you didn’t tell the chick to fight her.” Ravio drawled, folding his arms behind his head as he grinned widely at Hilda. He was a thin, wiry boy of fifteen-a year younger than Sheik and Hilda-with a shock of black hair pulled into a ponytail. His ruby eyes were bright with excitement. Ravio had always been _far_ more energetic than most Sheikah, unable to keep himself still or keep his emotions hidden. He didn’t wear a cowl because the Elders had given up on him, not because he’d mastered anything.

Truthfully, he used to be worse. He’d been shunned from the Sheikah because of his behavior just as badly as Sheik had been shunned for what he was. That, coupled with Ravio’s inherent friendliness, had all but ensured their friendship from the start. He had taught Sheik how to act around others and Sheik had taught Ravio how to control his impulses, direct his energy so that he was in charge of himself. Now, Midna could tolerate him-an incredibly good thing, considering she was Ravio’s mentor.

Sheik let out a snort of amusement, and turned to face the Hylians behind him.

“Link, Shad, this is my cousin, Hilda, and…Ravio.”

“Oh come on! I deserve a better introduction than that!”

Sheik stood and pulled his stool closer to Link, giving the two of them room to sit as he signed a fairly rude gesture to Ravio. The younger boy responded by hurtling something at Sheik. Hilda caught it before it could hit him and bopped Ravio upside the head with it, scowling. Briefly, Sheik entertained the idea of asking what it was, but decided against it.

The entire classroom had disintegrated into chaos, with kids yelling at one another or tossing things around the room. Hilda and Ravio’s entrance had been entirely unnoticed.

Ravio opened his mouth to respond, then his gaze fell on Link, and his eyes went wide. Puzzled, Sheik glanced between them-and then let out an exclamation of shock.

He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it before-how any of them hadn’t noticed it before-but Link had a striking resemblance to Ravio. They had different hair and eye colors, and Link had a more angular build as well as a tan and was taller, but it was still prevalent.

Really. He was supposed to be a Sheikah. How in Nayru’s name had he _not_ noticed it? Especially with the consequences-Impa was going to _kill_ him.

“Holy shit, Hilda, look at that! We’re fucking identical!”

“You’re-“

“I know but that’s not supposed to carry over to second gen! Shit, Midna’s gonna flip her _balls_ when we tell her!” Ravio had the intelligence to say _that_ it in Sheikah, at least.

“We are not telling _Delr_ Midna!”

“Ravio!” Hilda’s yelp sent the boy tumbling from the table. Sheik glanced at Shad, and saw the boy was doubled over with laughter. Link looked at him, bewildered.

“How in the Dark Realm-Sheik?!” Sheik let out a slow breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s just a coincidence. You two might be related somewhere down the line-Ravio’s dad was an immigrant from Din-knows-where.” Hilda cut in smoothly, waving a hand in an awkward attempt at mimicking a Hylian gesture. Sheik coughed, trying to disguise his laughter. Hilda rarely did anything less than perfectly, but this was definitely one of them. She glared at him, but said nothing.

“That’s total-!”

“Link, the only thing you have in common with Ravio is his looks, and as terrible as _that_ is, I promise that that is it.” Sheik said it quietly, but he said it firmly as he met Link’s gaze. The emotion in the Hylian’s eyes, anger over Hilda’s translucent attempt at changing the subject and fear, panic, over what this meant, still lingered, but Link calmed down-if only a little.

“Jerk. Hey, do you know when lunch is ‘cause- _Hey_!” Ravio tackled Sheik, tugging his cowl off in the process, and a small blue Poe flitted its way out of his cowl excitedly, bouncing around the air around them .

“No fair! I can’t bring Sheerow but Sheik can bring his-“

“Oh, hey! I remember you!” Link chirruped, thoroughly distracted by the appearance of the Poe. It bounced over to Shad and hovered around him curiously for a moment, then hurtled itself at Link, burying itself in his hair.

“Sheik-!”

“It is fine. It just…likes you.” Hilda was staring at Link with that look she often got when she thought Sheik wasn’t looking, trying to puzzle him out. Sheik reached over and prodded the Poe with his fingertips, lips twitching into a smile at its cool burn. Its contentment radiated strongly enough that even a Hylian could feel it, and Sheik studied it curiously. What had it been in life, _who_ had it been in life?

It registered that Link was staring at him a second later, and he managed not to blush as he dropped his hand and pulled his cowl back up, though he shot Ravio a dark glare. Ravio stuck his tongue out at him and hopped off the table.

“So we got this class with you, and you’ve got Hilda’s class next hour. We all share lunch, too. I’m gonna hang out with you at the graveyard tonight. Is that okay?” Ravio asked, leaning an arm against Hilda’s shoulder. Sheik nodded slowly. He’d only be there a few hours before going home, but Ravio was never much of a nuisance unless they went to the Fire Temple.

“Cool. I’m gonna go bug Byrne. See you later, _vraimhe._ Nice to meet you two. Take care of Sheik for us, ‘kay?” Ravio offered a short wave as he grinned at them, then bounded off. Hilda rolled her eyes.

“He’s going to get himself into trouble.”

“He is excited. And so are you, _nezhatehrn_. Enjoy yourself.” Her gaze refused to meet his, but she let out an explosive sigh and followed him.

“…So that was your family?” Shad asked it hesitantly, and Sheik smiled briefly as he turned to face him, nodding.

“Well, I hope this is all the crazy that’s gonna happen today, because I can’t handle any more of it without my head imploding or something.” Link sighed, cupping his hands. Sheik glanced at him curiously-the Poe was wrapping tendrils of flame around Link’s fingertips shyly.

“So are you nervous, Sheik?” Shad asked, pushing his glasses up absently.

“For?” He asked, signing surprise.

“Classes, people, that stuff? It has to be overwhelming…”

“Oh. No, not overwhelming. But it is hard.”

Link blinked at him, attention abandoning the Poe.

“How so?”

“Sheikah culture revolves around combat. We are always fighting something. The Gerudo are also a race of warriors. The biggest things to adjust to when we go to the Desert are the climate and their religious beliefs. Hylians are different. You do not fight, save dueling, and that is relatively new. You are a fairly peaceful race. Here, we must adjust to the social aspects. It is uncomfortable. I do not…ah, socialize well.” He failed to explain it the way that he’d wanted to, but Link nodded, seeming to understand what he had intended to say.

“Well, I bet we’d say the same of the Sheikah. Ceres went to Termina last year over the summer and came back talking about how different things are there, and they’re probably the closest race culturally to us.” Link said, shrugging. Sheik signed amusement.

“You would be surprised. We believe in the Goddesses and the Triforce. Termina believes in _a_ Goddess and a male deity. They recognize the Triforce as a powerful artifact but do not recognize its holiness. And their artifacts carry a destructive force more powerful than any single shard of the Triforce ever could. Such a challenge to one’s beliefs could easily startle anyone.” Sheik shrugged. Shad nodded empathetically.

“Yeah. Majora, and they don’t have a name for the male deity. He’s just supposed to stop Majora, keep her reigned in when she goes too crazy. Termina’s our first unit in religious history.” Shad interjected, flashing Sheik a grin. Sheik found a half smile on his lips before he realized what he was doing.

Maybe this _Rheshae_ wouldn’t be as bad as he feared.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

               Sheik popped the top back onto Link’s highlighter and handed it back to him, brow furrowed as he stared at the paper in front of him.

“…Is this all of it?”

“Uh-huh.” Link nodded into his chin, flashing Sheik a grin when the Sheikah looked up, single visible eye clouded in thought.

Link was not entirely sure what to make of him. Sheik was new, and new was _very_ good, but Link barely knew him. Sheik was quiet, but when he spoke it was just forceful enough to make it clear that he wasn’t timid. He was polite, nice, but distant. He seemed vaguely awkward around people, but it was almost unnoticeable, especially in the way that he’d known exactly what to say to calm Link down earlier, when Link had seen the other Sheikah who’d looked like him. He moved very deliberately, gracefully, and he sat completely still as stone when he stopped moving, except when he spoke. When he spoke he’d make slight adjustments, tilting his head or body a miniscule amount and his long fingers would flit about, sweeping up or down or to the side or curling like he was trying to use a strange sort of sign language, the navy bandages wrapped around each finger making the movement all the more noticeable. Link didn’t know if it was a Sheikah sign language or if it was just a nervous tick, but it confused him. Sheik’s face was almost entirely hidden-his bangs covered his right eye and the cloth covered the lower part of his face, leaving only one eye clear. He hadn’t seemed to care when it was pulled down, but Link was scared to ask-he didn’t know if it would cross some sort of line or not, and he was desperate not to do that.

He _wanted_ Sheik to like him, to be friends with him. He was sick of wandering around alone, because he hated being a burden on Shad, especially with all that had happened, and no one else bothered with him-out of intimidation or fear or disgust or whatever. Sheik didn’t have any of that attached to him. It was as much of a fresh start Link would ever get.

The two of them were sitting in the courtyard at an abandoned picnic table, alone. Link had gotten Sheik a map and shown him the quickest ways to get to his classes and every other area he’d need to be able to find. Link had eaten while they’d wandered-than Farore for subs and water bottles-and Sheik had said he was fine.

“Sorry for all the stares.” Link said, sighing as he dropped the highlighter into his pocket. Sheik’s gaze flicked to the other students in the courtyard, many of whom were watching them and indiscreetly whispering to one another. The corners of Sheik’s eyes crinkled.

“Why are _you_ sorry, Link? It is not your fault.” Link felt the tips of his ears burn and his eyes widened-did Sheik _really_ not know?

“It, ah, kind of is ‘cause of the Tournament and stuff.”

“The…what?” Sheik’s fingers moved again, and he tilted his head down slightly.

“Tournaments? Ah, the big competitions in Castle Town every year? There’s one for magic, debate, one for weaponry, and I think there’s some other little ones. All the schools and organizations in Hyrule like this, that focus on combat, send their top five students in each category every year. There’s a ton of scholarships and money and jobs and stuff on the line for it too, so…” Link trailed off when Sheik’s eyes lit with understanding, and his hands moved in a slightly more dramatic manner for a moment.

“Ah, yes. My aunt attends them yearly to judge which contestants make it to the Royal Guard.”

_Then why didn’t he…?_

“Have you ever been to one?” It came out a little slower than Link had hoped, making it sound almost suspicious. His ears reddened again, but Sheik didn’t seem to notice.

“No. I prefer working at the studio, and Impa enjoys spending time in Castle Town, so she usually stays for a long period of time.”

“Oh, well, that explains it. You’ll have to come this year with us. Shad always gets to the debate and magic ones-he’s pretty damn good, usually gets top twenty, even got top ten last year. Nationally, not just in the school, I mean. I get the weaponry tournament. Made top three first year and got first last three years. I mean, they’ve got divisions based on size, skill, and age, so it wasn’t like I was the only winner, but…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his head nervously. He really hated telling people about it-he took it for granted that ninety-eight percent of the Hylians he encountered knew who he was. Dueling was the most popular sport in all of Hyrule, and the attention Link had garnered because of his performance in it made him incredibly nervous. He had as little to do with it as possible, but he could only avoid so much of it, and the way people treated him because of it was something he absolutely _loathed_.

Sheik surprised him, suddenly bursting into a gale of laughter. He looked mortified, and dropped his head into his hands, but his shoulder shook as he tried to regain control of himself.

“Are you alright?”

“I apologize, I just-“ Sheik dissolved into laughter, unable to continue.

“What?!”

“I do not know the word for it in Hylian. It is _diih_ …” He managed to get a hold of himself and looked up at Link, then promptly burst into laughter again.

“I feel like I should be insulted.” Link said dryly, folding his arms across his chest. And he _did_ , but he found, for some strange reason, that he wasn’t. Sheik didn’t mean it meanly, whatever it was he meant.

“I am sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize on my account. I’ll just have to be your partner in Grayblade’s class.” Sheik blinked at him, slowly, then tilted his head to the side. The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly.

“Do you understand what that would entail, Link? You sound as if you enjoy dueling. We would never duel in front of the class, only in a private chamber, even for practice. It was not taken well when I asked to take this class, and so all measures possible have been taken to ensure I do not…inadvertently show anyone anything that they should not see. I do not want to, ah…” Sheik let out a noise of frustration, and Link watched, entranced, as his fingers moved again, sweeping through the air agitatedly.

“No, that’s fine. I don’t care. Just…don’t go easy on me. I promise I can take it, alright? Most people don’t even ask me to duel ‘cause of the tournament stuff. I usually get stuck with Grayblade as my partner all year and that always sucks-he’s there to teach, not to fight just to fight.”

“You keep at it, though.” Sheik replied softly, eyes serious. Link nodded.

“Yeah. I love doing it, it’s a lot of fun. Grayblade’s only got a little bit more to teach me that I’m interested in, though, and the only place I could go from here would be to join the Royal Guard and I don’t really want to do that.” Sheik didn’t reply immediately, gaze distant as he stared at the tabletop for a moment. Link didn’t mind.

“…Thank you. I did not expect to get any sort of help today.” Sheik’s tone startled him more than his words did, and Link’s attention snapped to him. Sheik’s hands moved briefly, in a slower pattern than before.

“Hey, people aren’t that racist here. If I hadn’t shown you around Shad or, if she was in a good mood, Ashei. And, anyway, I have to make it up to you. I’m pretty sure taking you to the hospital got you in trouble, and if I had gotten there sooner I could have gotten them before they broke anything.”

“How would you have stopped them?” Sheik murmured, his hands clenching. It was the most visible reaction of emotion Link had seen from him so far.

“The Poes used to get really upset when Dampè would have a coughing fit, like they did that night. I noticed it, but I didn’t start looking for you until they were moving so fast that I could barely see them. I knew not to do that when Dampè was around, and I just ignored them. So…” Link trailed off, eyes growing dark. He hadn’t understood why the Poes would be freaking out like that at first, when Dampè was dead, and it had cost Sheik a lot of trouble-not to mention the injuries. Link hadn’t even been sure he was still _alive_ when Sheik’s attackers had fled.

“…You are…very observant.” He blinked, looking up at Sheik in surprise.

“What?”

“To take notice of the dead’s behavior so, to acquire their goodwill to the point where they do not mislead you with such behaviors…It is impressive. Byrne has less skill with them than you do.” Sheik murmured, gaze intent.

“I doubt that.” Link snorted, shaking his head.

“His first attempt at calming down a great number of them lead to his…disability.” Sheik replied seriously, one hand reaching up and touching his arm. Link’s eyes widened.

“You’re kidding.”

Sheik suddenly stood up, tilting his head towards the school as the peal of a bell rang across the courtyard. He tucked away his map, taking a step towards the school.

“Are you coming, Link?” Link sat still for a moment, staring at him critically.

“...Yeah, hold up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nahscliah--as said last chapter, a guardian/chaperone for the Sheikah that are on their Rheshae.  
> Rheshae--means "assimilation". There are two a Sheikah goes through before the age of 18, and each lasts for two years. They spend two yeras living with the Gerudo and another two with the Hylians, so that they grow to understand/appreciate other cultures and so that they can leave the Sheikah with actual experience in the 'real world', because they do so many dangerous-ass jobs. While one isn't judged for leaving (usually), if one leaves while on their Hylian Rheshae, they're usually considered a failure/stupid/etc.  
> tyah/tyae--lover, boy/girlfriend. Doesn't have to be gendered, it literally just applies to anyone's romantic partner.  
> Theh--sincere apologies  
> Lahvyrraen--a Sheikah holiday. The dead get super restless and if they're not violent assholes are let out of their resting places to hang out with the living Sheikah until the end of the holiday. They are drawn towards more powerful Sheikah, though. Imagine friendly hordes of zombies all over the place, and it takes place around the same time Halloween does for us. There you go.  
> vraterhn--"male cousin"  
> heih --roughly "at ease", basically a non-formal uniform the Sheikah wear when not on missions/training/etc.  
> vraimhe--"male friend"  
> nezhatehrn--"my female cousin".   
> diih--"cute". Sheik couldn't think of the Hylian word for cute.  
> ***  
> NOTE: In this story a lot of the terms you see that are gendered have non-gendered variants. You'll see those too.


	4. Chapter 4

               Byrne had accompanied Sheik to his last class, and Sheik wished he would have put up more of a fight about it. Class had yet to start, and though there were only twenty students, including himself and Link, no one was so much as moving a muscle. Byrne leaned against the chalkboard at the front of the room, metal arm entirely uncovered, as he studied each of the students, assessing them.

“…Is he always like this?” Link whispered. Sheik stopped glaring at his brother long enough to reply.

“He is protective. Marin would do the same.”

“Sheik, how many siblings do you have?” He blinked, and paused for a moment before responding.

“Two. Marin, and Byrne. Three if you wish to count Hilda, as my aunt adopted me and legally we are…siblings.”

“No, that’s fine. Just the two is plenty. I don’t think I could handle any more hostility.” Sheik hid a smile.

“And you?”

“I got a little sister, Aryll. She’s seven and remembers everything she’s ever seen or heard or done, so try not to embarrass yourself in front of her.” Link said, a grin flickering across his lips.

The door opened, and Sheik looked up as an adult Hylian entered the room. He was not physically imposing—he was slender and tall with long limbs and a narrow face—but his eyes were as hard and grey as steel, studying his students coldly. He wore his hair, the same shade as his eyes, long and pulled back into a low ponytail-something Sheik had already determined was something of an icon, judging by the collection of cartoonish doodles plastered around the room. He fit his name.

Grayblade stopped when he saw Byrne, and his eyes narrowed, traveling across the room until they landed on Sheik. He met the teacher’s gaze, but Grayblade didn’t turn it into a challenge—he moved on.

“This is Advanced Weaponry. I am your instructor. To the new students this year, just call me Grayblade. Today we’re having weapon fittings. Grab a permission slip on your way down to the Ring, which is where class will be held daily from this point forward, unless I say differently. Find your partner, get your weapons, show me, and then practice the rest of the hour. You’ll be caring for your weapons for the rest of the year, and I expect nothing less than perfect care from all of you. If you’re not serious about this, then I expect you out of this class by tomorrow. Now go.” He turned before he’d even finished speaking, and Byrne pushed himself off the wall to talk to him.

“Should we-?”

“Go? Yeah. Grayblade’s probably gonna start yelling, and I don’t want to be here when your brother kills him.” Sheik shot him a glare that made it clear that wasn’t funny, but stood and followed Link. Link grabbed a couple papers from a table by the door and handed Sheik one before heading out the door. Sheik glanced down at the paper, and inwardly sighed. He couldn’t make heads or tails of the language when it was written down. Compositions had been hard—they’d been given a book that they would spend all marking period reading, writing a seven page paper on, and doing a more ‘creative’ project with. Sheik couldn’t even read the title of the book.

“So-“

“Hush it, Link.” A Hylian girl with incredibly short, spiky red hair snapped, glancing over her shoulder warningly at him. Link responded with a rude gesture, and she rolled her eyes at him, responding in kind before turning back around.

“So that was Malon, she’s Ashei’s buddy. Ashei’s in this class but I have no idea where. Anyway, to graduate we’ve got a bunch of classes we’re supposed to take like math and Compositions classes and social studies and that. Did you take those at home or something?”

Sheik just rolled with the subject change, nodding.

“What about health?”

“…Health?” Sheik repeated, signing confusion.

“Like, it talks about how to take care of yourself and treat minor wounds and— _oh_! Wait, are the Sheikah, like, _built_ differently from us? Like, the Zora have scales and the flippery things and we have the pointy ears-do you guys have two hearts or something?” Sheik barely managed to hold his first reaction—a very loud and violent _no—_ in.

And, anyway, that wasn’t _technically_ true. There were differences-but mostly in magic and spirit. The only physical difference Sheik could think of was the ears—Hylians had long pointed ones, while Sheikah had smaller ears that tapered off more.

“You are an idiot, Link.”

“No need to be mean. So you can basically take whatever you want?”

“Within the limits the Elders set, I suppose.” Sheik shrugged.

“That’s awesome. So, anyway, the Ring is this big ass pavilion sort of thing set up in the middle of the Central Courtyard, and the bottom is covered with sand so people can duel. There’s a room leading out to it that has all the weapons we’re supposed to pick from—we can’t bring our own ‘cause there were issues with some kids poisoning them or having secret compartments and all that stuff—but if you graduate with high enough honors, Grayblade’ll let you keep your weapon. You can pick as many as you want, and if you use projectiles I suggest grabbing as many as possible. Grayblade’ll restock arrows but daggers and other stuff is harder to come by. Just don’t go too overboard and you’re fine.”

“…There is no magic allowed, correct?” Sheik asked, thinking of his lyre. He had left it in his locker, and spelled it against thieves earlier—he was terrified that someone would take it—but it would take too long to retrieve now without causing a scene, and he hated causing a scene about it. Ravio always made sure to do so when they sparred.

“Not yet. Once everybody’s signed the slips and turned them in, we’ll be introduced to other sorts of combat, including magic.”

“…Alright.”

“Ah, this way! Most of us have other classes with him but you don’t, so you gotta pick your weapons.” Link said quickly, grabbing Sheik’s arm and turning him ninety degrees. Sheik automatically tugged himself free, but Link didn’t seem to notice his reaction—just led the way to a door that a handful of other students were entering.

They all shot Link a glare when he entered, but he ignored them and swept an arm around him, while Sheik stared.

It was a spacious octagonal room, walls absolutely covered in cases holding all manner of weaponry. Stands and tables cluttered the rest of it, holding even more.

“This is ridiculous.” Sheik muttered, sighing as he raked a hand through his bangs. Link snorted.

“Says the Sheikah?” Sheik jabbed his elbow into his stomach, and began browsing through the weapons.

He found a chain-whip fairly similar to the one he used, to his surprise, and he selected a number of throwing needles. Seven daggers and a longer blade, caught somewhere between a short sword and a dagger, joined his collection.

“That’s it?” Link asked dubiously.

“He could kick your ass with his bare hands. He’s doing you a service, if you really want a good fight.” Byrne’s low rumble startled Sheik-it wasn’t often anyone snuck up on him, but now, with the clatter of weapons and noise of Hylians all around him, he’d let his guard down. Link let out a yelp and spun around, arms held defensively in front of him. To his credit, he didn’t drop his guard when he saw it was Byrne.

“Where’s your lyre?”

“I will not use magic today. Maybe soon, if Link proves his mettle.” Sheik said, shooting the boy an amused look. Link rolled his eyes.

“So you two are partnering up?” Byrne asked, displeasure obvious in his pointed stare. Sheik met his gaze for a moment, then cocked his head and grinned.

“For the year. Does that bother you, brother mine?” Byrne’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t start with me, fucker, or you won’t be going _anywhere_ tomorrow.” The threat did shake Sheik, but he refused to let his brother see it—Din damn him for knowing how much the studio meant to him.

“Does Malladus he know he will be spending the next two years here, Byrne?” Ruby eyes narrowed dangerously.

Honestly, most encounters between the two of them ended up like this—threatening and fighting and glaring and arguing. Byrne was callous, and he was a brute, but he meant well, and Sheik was careful to never say anything too out of line.

“Do you really think the dead would be that opposed to you joining their number?” The same could not be said of Byrne. Sheik’s smile became brittle around the edges, and he shrugged.

“We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?” Byrne’s eyes widened in horror as he realized what he’d said and he reached out, but Sheik had already slipped past him and out the door.

“You alright?” Link asked softly, fingers brushing against Sheik’s arm. _No._

 “I am fine. Where do we go now?” He asked curtly, forcing the problem away. He’d dwell on it later, if it was worth dwelling on.

“I’ll show you the locker room, and you can pick your locker. They’re magically coded to you once you pick it, so no one else can get into it unless you let them. You can modify the spells to whatever you want, but Headmaster Owlan will get pissed if you don’t tell him. Then we’ll go tell Grayblade and go practice, because I know I’m being annoying but I’m seriously dying to fight.” Sheik let out a small sound of amusement as Link led the way into another room just a few feet down the hall, this one with a blue door. Most of the class was milling around within it, standing around long rows of lockers that dominated the entire room. Link walked over to the first free-standing row and touched a locker. The metal flashed a dark green and the door opened.

“They all glow yellow when they’re taken, so this isn’t the best place to try and sleep—don’t give me that look. The one next to mine is open, if you want it.” Sheik stared at Link for a moment, serious.

He liked the Hylian, and for some reason he felt inclined to trust him with such simple things, as he’d been doing all day. He’d prayed to Nayru before coming this morning, but even her Wisdom wouldn’t have extended this far. He couldn’t decide if it was dangerous, how at ease Link made him feel, or if it was a good thing.

But storing weapons that were not his own beside Link’s own weapon wasn’t anything Sheik was concerned with, and he pressed his fingertips to a dull square of metal beside Link. It flashed grey, and swung open, revealing its empty depths as its mechanical magic slashed clumsily at his, bonding.

He tweaked the spells, cast a very nasty charm on anyone who dared try and open it—even though there would never be anything valuable in it—and closed the locker as he turned to face Link.

And stared.

Link had a metal shield strapped to one arm and a sheath buckled onto his back, and he was experimentally swinging a longsword around in his left hand. He held it naturally, unusual for a Hylian. It was admirable—he moved like a Sheikah. He swished it around a few times, careful not to hit anyone, before sheathing it. He looked up, catching Sheik’s gaze as he slammed his locker shut.

“Let’s go harass Grayblade then.” Link said, grinning.

“You’ll be doing no such think, master Elne.”

_Elne?_ Sheik turned to find the teacher leaning in the doorway.

“Says you. So, Sheik and I are partnering up, and we’re gonna go spar. That alright?” Grayblade’s eyes slid to Sheik, and Sheik met his gaze readily. He was someone to watch, like Malladus, a manipulator.

Though, to be honest, Malladus wasn’t subtle, and Sheik had no doubt this Grayblade was.

Sheik bowed and signed a greeting anyway.

“I hope you’re prepared, Sheikah. Master Elne is not a challenge to take lightly.”

“I assure you, Hylian, I am fully prepared to face Link.” Link’s eyebrows rose, and a number of heads turned. Sheik’s voice was pleasant, though. He tilted his head and signed assurance, smiling beneath his cowl as Grayblade’s eyes chilled. He wasn’t entirely comfortable, being so rude to someone who would have been an Elder if they were Sheikah, but if Grayblade was going to use racial titles then he would oblige the adult.

“What are you doing taking this class, Sheikah? Isn’t this supposed to be a little… _below_ your level?” Link’s eyes widened and he jerked his head towards the door, inching away.

“Yes. There is nothing you could ever teach me.” Sheik didn’t answer Grayblade’s first question, and offered a short bow as he followed Link. He felt the teacher’s eyes boring into his back, and ignored it as best he could.

“…Sorry about him.” Link muttered, looking at the floor as he rubbed the back of his head. Link was, Sheik noted, better prepared for the class than most. He had a pair of sturdy looking fingerless gloves on, a green short-sleeved shirt, a pair of cargo pants, and heavy duty boots—nothing long or baggy.

“Why are you apologizing? His behavior is not your fault.” Sheik shrugged, signing reassurance and amusement as Link led him through a pair of glass doors at the end of the hall, and into a large rectangular courtyard. The center of it contained a pavilion—the Ring, Sheik assumed from its size. Link led him around the edges of the courtyard, on a stone path.

“The practice rooms are across the courtyard. And ‘cause…well, what Shad was saying during Bio. He’s…got issues. But…I still, ah…” Link trailed off, glancing at him, expression helpless as he shrugged. Sheik just nodded—all throughout the day he’d gotten the impression that Link regarded Grayblade very highly, and the passing comments Shad, and even Ashei, had made to him had bothered the Hylian.

“I understand. And I apologize for any trouble this causes you, but I will not let him degrade my people.”

“I wouldn’t ask you too.” Link said, voice suddenly very firm. Sheik studied him curiously—it was something he’d been doing a lot, recently.

“I-“

“Well look who it is!” Link’s eyes widened and Sheik turned. A Hylian built like Malladus and Byrne strode to them, a heavy broadsword strapped to his back. He was massive, but made of muscle, not fat, and towered over Link—who was a few inches taller than Sheik. He wasn’t armed, and wore a heavy jacket over a blue short-sleeved shirt and jeans with an incredibly thick belt. His hair was a vibrant red and shone with oil, styled into some strange shape Sheik couldn’t have named if he’d tried. Ravio might have known—he had been so fascinated with going to the Hylians for his first _Rheshae_ that the younger Sheikah had spent months memorizing everything he could about their culture and spewing facts out unasked.

“I’m busy.”

“What? No, good to see you too old chum?” Link’s eyes flashed, narrowing, and Sheik signed calm anxiously—he wasn’t sure how Link acted when he was angry, and if he was as volatile as Byrne was...

“Sheik, this is Groose.”

“Second in the country, for weapon dueling.” The Hylian added, a cocky smile on his lips. Sheik signed discomfort, gaze flickering between the two Hylians. Was now a good time to ask…?

“…I have a question about your…weapon dueling category.” Sheik asked, sighing. _Why not?_ Link blinked at him, expression almost bewildered.

“What?”

“When you say weapons…would you face an archer, or would you only face those with melee weapons?”

“All types, but there are specific contests, usually smaller ones, for categories like that. Like, there’re target contests to see how well you can aim and stuff.” Sheik nodded slowly, and then, guilty over ignoring the other Hylian for so long, turned to face him.

“I apologize. Today is…” Sheik trailed of, signing exhaustion.

“ _Groose!”_

“Go easy on Fledge, Groose.” Link said, taking a step forward.

“Not my partner, not my problem.” The Hylian said, teeth flashing briefly as he turned and jogged off. Link waited until he was out of earshot before speaking.

“He’s a dick.” It was said bluntly, startling Sheik, and he let out a soft laugh as he signed amusement.

“No, I’m not joking. He’s relatively fine with everybody else, he’s just a dick to me—and Shad, for that matter. I’d just avoid him, but…” Link shrugged, letting out an explosive sigh, and began walking again.

“So, is there anything I should be aware of? Like, when we duel?” Sheik stared at him blankly for a minute before the pieces clicked, and he shook his head. Sheik took a few quick steps forward until he was at the Hylian’s side before replying.

“ _Lhe_ …no. We have traditions, but nothing important. Do you…?”

“Fight fair, I guess, and don’t kill anyone? But that’s common sense, so, I guess not.” Link shrugged, flushing.

“If there’s something special going on Grayblade’ll go over everything you need to know.” He added, tugging open a glass door leading back into the building. Sheik followed him in silence, until they came to a series of small rooms, each with a glass wall facing the hall they stood in. Each of the rooms were devoid of all furniture, with padded walls and floors, though the mats showed signs of distress. The rooms themselves weren’t too small-there’d be plenty of room to maneuver. The doors of each room had a small whiteboard and a marker dangling from a string.

Link stopped in front of one and uncapped the marker, scribbling on the board.

“How do you spell your name?”

“It does not matter.” Sheik said quickly, blushing as he ducked his head-he _really_ needed to find someone to help him study Hylian language. Link glanced at him, but said nothing.

“Alright.”

Sheik closed the door carefully, checking to see if it had a lock-it didn’t, to his relief-behind them. Link dropped his shield and his blade against a nearby wall and walked over to the windows-up high, tucked out of sight of the hall, Sheik saw, were blinds. Link tugged them down, wincing as the cheap plastic smacked against glass, and Sheik let his attention wander. He dropped into a _Uirah_ to stretch his muscles without a thought, mind drifting.

Advanced Weaponry had two hours, first and seventh hours, but the first hour class was led by a Professor Owlan. Ravio had that hour-Sheik wondered how it had gone. He hoped it had gone well. Hilda had refused to take a dueling class, which had about broken Ravio’s heart. They were, after all, battle partners.

“Ready?” Sheik very nearly had a heart attack when he realized Link was staring at him, and then realized what exactly he’d been doing.

On the bright side, he supposed, he wouldn’t have to learn Hylian. He’d be too dead for that.

“…Yes.” Link already had his equipment on.

And Link drew his sword. Sheik studied him a moment, Link watching him eagerly-

-and then attacked.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

               Sheik moved like liquid, flowing from one attack to the other and never staying still, circling and darting away so quickly Link barely had time to register his movements and respond. He worked his sword frantically, barely managing to block one of Sheik’s daggers.

Contrary to most people’s beliefs, Grayblade didn’t spell his students’ weapons. They were blunt, but they could still cut. Sheik had enough force behind his blows to do that.

Something flashed in the air at Sheik’s fingertips as he again withdrew for a second, and Link hit the ground as a number of needles hit the mat behind him with a series of solid thumps. He turned the roll into an attack, his blade flashing across Sheik’s stomach-

-and then a dagger pressed against his throat, and somebody leaned heavily against his back, hair tickling the back of his neck and soft laughter filling the air.

“Very good.” Sheik laughed, pushing away from him. Link stayed on the ground for a moment, blushing furiously as he struggled to get it under control, before pushing himself to his feet.

All in all, the battle had taken only a couple of minutes, if that, and Link was breathing hard.

“How in the Dark Realm do you move so fast?” Link asked, sagging against the wall behind him as he watched Sheik. The Sheikah was entirely oblivious to his staring—he had his hands on his hips and was staring at the needles, which had buried themselves in the mat, with a frown on his lips. His cowl was down.

Well, at least Link had managed to do _that_. The Poe was dancing around the needles lazily, bouncing off of the bits of metal poking out of the mat.

“Training. The dead are…very quick if they are unsettled. If we are not faster…” Sheik shrugged, glancing over his shoulder at him.

“How do I go about this, exactly?”

“I _would_ just leave them, but if we do that Grayblade will freak out. Maybe—“ The door swung open, and a familiar russet mop of hair poked in.

“Oh, Farore, it’s you. Why are the blinds down, Link?” Pipit demanded, looking relieved as he entered the practice room.

“Just practicing with Sheik. Glad you came in though, we need your help. Sheik tried to decapitate me and got his needles stuck in the mat.” Pipit’s gaze was blank as he looked between the two of them, and he folded his arms across his chest as he scowled at them.

“Oh, and, Sheik? This is Pipit. He’s Grayblade’s nephew and he’s the student teacher this year. Pipit, this is Sheik, he’s one of the Sheikah transfer students.” Apparently satisfied, Pipit studied Sheik. Sheik gave a quick bow, the sort he’d been giving to teachers all day, and his fingers moved quickly in a handful of gestures as he smiled briefly at Pipit.

“Alright. Well, I’ll go get some pliers. Have you tried anything?”

“The needles are fairly sharp. That would be unwise.” Sheik said dryly, lifting his right hand up. The bandages he kept wound around his fingers were wet with blood, and Link let out a yelp.

“How did you cut yourself on-?” Pipit stopped himself, staring in shock. Sheik looked taken aback by their responses and stared at the two of them like they’d grown two heads.

“I could not tell if you would be able to dodge them, so I threw the blunt ends. Well, blunt- _er_.” Sheik added, brow furrowing as he stared at the pieces of metal protruding from the mat.

“Dear Farore, Link. Always with the crazy ones. I’ll take care of this— _this_ time. You go get your buddy cleaned up. Karane should be in the nurse’s, so hopefully you can get out of their without getting into too much trouble.”

“Pipit, I promise I’ll-“

“Go, Elne.”

“Yes sir. C’mon, Sheik.” Link made a point to get his ass out of there as quickly as he could, an amused Sheik following him.

Pipit was a pretty decent guy, and he was always careful to take care of any messes kids that his dad didn’t like made, to keep tensions at a minimum. He wasn’t as good a fighter as Grayblade and he tried not to compete, but he was terrifying when he got angry and Link had no intentions of being at the receiving end of that _ever again._

“Where are we headed now?” Sheik sighed, falling in step beside him.

“Nurse’s office. Karane should be there and she’ll help us fix your hand and get us out of there as quick as we can.”

The nurse’s office was situated just outside the practice hall, luckily for anyone who got seriously injured. There weren’t any doors in it, except leading into the stock room and a smaller infirmary where those who needed to sleep or wanted quiet generally went, but Link stopped Sheik before he could enter and hesitantly poked his head inside.

“ _Shit-!”_ He barely managed to get back out of the office before something hurtled past where his face had been a second ago.

“Get out!”

“Pipit sent us!” Link yelped. He staggered back into Sheik when Karane’s head popped out of the doorframe.

“Oh, he did? What’s he want? You know, he promised he’d take me out to dinner tonight and if he sent you to tell me he’s canceling-“

“No, no, nothing like that. Sheik cut himself trying to decapitate me, so-“ Her flat expression cut him off, and her gaze moved to Sheik.

“Next time, don’t come unless you actually succeed.”

“ _Karane_!” He yelped.

“Come on in. You too, Elne. Are you hurt too?” She asked, grabbing Sheik’s arm and tugging him after her.

“No.”

“Good, ‘cause I don’t have the time to deal with you too. I’m Karane, by the way.” Sheik didn’t say a word, just listened to her prattle on with a curious expression on his face. Something cold touched the back of Link’s neck and he yelped, very nearly falling down as he spun around. The Poe floated behind him, and as he stared at it, it again dropped down into his hair. The blue light seemed to like it there.

“So can you take off the bandages for me-?”

“You are supposed to heal this, correct?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m one of the school’s nurses. I’m not certified to use magic, but we’ve got bandages and salves that I can use. Did you hit your head, kid?” Link turned to face the two of them, sensing something off in Sheik’s tone.

“No. I apologize, but I have it under control.” Sheik said firmly, taking a step back from Karane and clenching his injured hand into a fist.

“And that’s why you’re dripping blood onto my carpet? Don’t think so. C’mon, kid.” A light bulb went off somewhere, and Link realized why Sheik was so edgy.

“Karane, chill. Sorry, Sheik, I didn’t think. The Sheikah have their own stuff they do-“

“I’m not sending this kid back to class bleeding!”

Link felt a sudden shift in magic, and he snapped to attention—Shad had always told him he was dense, especially when it came to magic. Link could never feel any sort of spell unless it was _powerful._

 “Calm down, Link.” Sheik murmured, glancing at him. Karane had a hand on her chest and was staring at Sheik like he’d grown two heads.

“What the _fuck_ -?!” Sheik ignored her, tugging at the bandages on his left hand until they came undone, and expertly winding them around the bloody ones on his right hand.

“…I healed my wound.”

“Then why the bandages?”

“I do not wish to get blood on anything else I touch today, Link. Thank you, but your aide was not needed.” At some point Sheik had replaced his cowl, and he tilted his head slightly in Karane’s direction. She stared at him for a moment longer before recovering, and looked at Link. Her eyes widened.

“What the fuck is on your head, Elne?”

“…What?” Link’s hands flew to his head, and fizzled against something.

_Oh. Right. The Poe._

“Sheik’s pet.”

“It is not a _pet_.” Sheik said, eyes narrowed. Link shrugged an apology.

“Sheik’s buddy. Well, thanks anyway, Karane.”

“Uh huh. Don’t come unless you actually need my help next time.”

Sheik didn’t say a word until they’d left the nurses office and begun the trek back to the courtyard-avoiding the practice hall, of course. Link thought about asking him about the magic—he doubted it was necessary to use such a powerful spell—but something warned him off of it, and he remained silent.

“…Your last name is Elne?”

“Um, yeah. Why?” Sheik studied him again, expression carefully blank. He reached up and grabbed the Poe from Link’s hair, cradling it gently between his hands.

“It is a very old Sheikah word. I just…wonder how it came to be a Hylian surname.”

“What’s it mean?” Link asked curiously, eyes wide. His last name was _Sheikah_? But it came from his mother’s side, not his father’s, which made it even more of a mystery. His grandmother had come from across the seas of Termina, and his grandfather was a native to Kakariko—and they were both full Hylian on both sides. How in the Farore’s name had they ended up with a _Sheikah_ name?

“I could tell you that it means forest, but that would be a lie. I do not know the specific translation, but _elne_ is the title of a specific place.” Link frowned, intrigued. He was cautious of asking Sheik direct questions about things, and he held off asking where the place was. The Sheikah were an incredibly secretive race—and he had no intention of surviving so long and _then_ insulting them. So he asked the second question that came to mind.

“Does it still exist?” Sheik didn’t respond immediately, and busied himself by tucking the Poe out of sight.

“…Perhaps.”

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

“You look happy.” Sheik said dryly, glancing up at Ravio as the younger boy threw himself onto the ground beside Sheik with a grin on his lips. A Redead lay curled in the fetal position beside him, and Ravio immediately began tending to it, coaxing it out of its shell. Sheik had a Dead Hand’s head resting on his lap and a purple Poe at his shoulder—the graveyard was still incredibly active, though it wasn’t trying to break free any longer.

“Hilda was pissed at me this morning so she was giving me the cold shoulder all day, and this Hylian—I think her name was Ceres—gave me her number and Hilda saw it. We got yelled at by one of the instructors ‘cause you know how Hylians are, but it made my day.” Ravio declared, looking incredibly pleased with himself. Sheik snorted in amusement. Hilda wasn’t very affectionate in public, but she got jealous very easily. She had been the one to convince Elder Midna to send Ravio with her to the Hylians for his first _Rheshae_ instead of going to the Gerudo. It wasn’t the sex that bothered her—it never was—but it was the idea of losing Ravio that scared Hilda more than anything else.

Sheik had borne the brunt of her anxiety when the two of them had first started seeing one another, which had always mystified him. Hilda was firmly on Elder Midna’s side—it was why she no longer lived with her mother. Her placing so much trust in him, relying so heavily on him, had been…flattering. Bitter, but flattering.

“How’s that Compositions paper going for you?” Ravio asked, smirking. Sheik signed a rude gesture at him, making the younger boy laugh.

“Can you help me?” Sheik pleaded.

“No. Impa made me swear on the Shadow Temple’s you-know-what that I wouldn’t help you. She did the same with Hilda and Marin and Byrne, too.”

Sheik let out a cry of protest, and Ravio snickered.

“She wants you to make friends.”

“Then she’s more sadistic than I thought she was!” He exploded.

“You know that’s not why.” Ravio said softly, expression suddenly grave, serious. Sheik’s jaw tightened, and he glared back.

“It’s what it will lead to.”

“You hit it off with my Hylian and that nerdy kid. It can’t—Sheik!”

“No.” He was already on his feet, leaving the Dead Hand in Ravio’s care as he strode off into the depths of the graveyard.

He knew, on some level, that Impa just wanted what was best for him. But forcing him to make friends, especially when he could _literally_ die any day, when his existence was only temporary? It was beyond cruel—not just to Sheik, but to whomever he befriended. It was bad enough that his family and Ravio would miss him—adding more people to his conscience was something Sheik couldn’t bear to do.

Ravio didn’t follow him, to his relief, and Sheik eventually sank down beside a Gibdo that was kneeling besides its blade, the weapon half-buried in the earth at its side. The creature leaned into him, a faint whispery whine escaping it.

It had broken a leg, and Sheik set the bone, murmuring soft nonsense to the creature as he healed it to keep it calm. The Gibdo stood as soon as he withdrew his magic, and with the effortless grace of the dead drew its massive sword from the earth. The creature rested its fingertips against Sheik’s forehead, a silent thanks, before lopping off into the cemetery.

Sheik pushed himself up and continued on.

He pushed himself hard, putting a great swarm of Poes to rest and helping a number of Redeads find their ways back into their mausoleums. He enjoyed the work, and it kept his mind off of Ravio’s comment, and by the time Impa’s magic crackled across the graveyard, it had mostly settled down.

There were a few Dead Hands still wandering, but they weren’t hungry, and the Gibdos just wanted to patrol the perimeter. Redeads gravitated towards one another, and they would be fine so long as they found others. Poes, as always, were relatively harmless. Even if someone came to visit, the chance of them getting hurt was as minimal as it ever got.

Sheik stopped by Dampè’s hut to grab his bag and his lyre, then hurried to the gates.

Impa smiled at him when he slid into the passenger’s seat of her car, glancing behind him at Ravio’s form, sleeping stretched out on the back seat.

“How was it today?”

“…Exhausting.” Sheik sighed, resting his head on the door as she pulled out onto the road.

“Ravio told me about your assignment.” He tensed immediately, gaze flickering to the mirror hanging between the two of them. Ravio’s eye cracked open, met his gaze, and hurriedly closed again.

“Did he tell you-?”

“Yes.” Impa let out a soft ‘ah’, ignoring the anger lacing the word.

“Is there anyone you could ask? Your teacher might-“

“No.” It was a lie, but he said it with enough force for Impa to drop the matter. He’d have to ask someone-preferably someone he was relatively comfortable around-and the only person who was allowed to help him that came to mind was Link.

“I want you to solve this problem by tonight, Sheik.” It was a challenge, and he glared at her.

She’d always done that—given him a deadline for things, whether it was chores or training or work. It had been fun when he’d been a child, but _now_? On _this?_

And how in Nayru’s name was he supposed to do it anyway? He knew what she meant—she wanted proof, someone to agree to help him, by the time she went to bed.

It was six o’clock already. Who in Nayru’s name could he-?

Ravio had that girl’s number, he realized. And she would probably have Ashei’s. And, undoubtedly, Ashei would have Shad’s. But Shad had seemed so busy—Sheik had asked him what it was he was involved in, and the list of activities had startled him. He doubted Shad would have enough time to help him—and the only other Hylian he knew who could help would be Link.

But _really_? He didn’t even like talking to his own _siblings_ half of the time. Four Hylians just to get a number from _one_ of them?

_Nayru damn her!_

He threw his bag over his shoulder, watching in the mirror as it hit Ravio in the stomach. Ravio gave up his pretense of sleep, crying out.

“-Sheik-!”

“You bastard. You knew.”

“Impa, he’s gonna kill me!”

“Boys, _sit!_ Ravio, give him whatever it is he needs or I’ll _let_ him kill you.” Ravio chucked a crumpled wad of paper at him, kicking his feet against the car seat in order to propel himself as far away as he could get. Sheik caught the paper and dropped back into his seat, glaring sullenly at the road before them.

“I’m sorry!”

“I really couldn’t care less.”

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

Sheik turned the device over in his hands, glaring at the paper lying next to him. He wasn’t one for sulking or hiding out in his bedroom, but he found himself doing both. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed with his phone. His blue Poe flitted about his room, examining everything with a childlike curiosity that did nothing to keep him from dwelling on his anger.

Impa had gotten it for him when he’d first begun spending time at the studio so he could stay later than usual. The only numbers he had on it were hers, Malladus’ (Byrne didn’t have a phone), Marin’s, and Ravio’s.

The only times he had ever used it were to call Ravio, because the younger boy had thought it would be great to talk to each other in the middle of the night when they were supposed to be asleep, as children. Impa had turned a blind eye, but Ravio had given up on it after realizing they had nothing to say to each other they didn’t already say when they saw each other daily. And, when he’d gone to the Gerudo, he’d just warped back once every few months to see Impa. Hadn’t used it then at all.

He took care of it, though. Usually it sat in his desk, untouched, but every so often he’d pull it out and make sure it was charged.

He let out a sigh and began dialing.

It rang a few times before someone answered.

“Hello?” The voice was feminine, bright and chipper.

“This is Ceres, correct?”

“Um, yeah. Who’s this?”

“I am Sheik. You gave Ravio your…number earlier-“

“Oh, did he have you call? Is he with that purple-haired girl? Is he interested?” The eagerness in her voice destroyed any thoughts Sheik had about telling her Ravio _was_ interested. He couldn’t hurt her like that, though he had no idea who she was.

“I actually have a question that he thought you could answer.” Sheik said slowly, standing and walking over to his desk. He rummaged around in it, pulling out a pad of paper and a pencil.

“He did? Oh, he thinks I’m smart—this is great! Yeah, alright, what is it?”

“I need to get in touch with either Ashei or Shad. Do you have any way of contacting them-?”

“Oh, of _course_ I do! Shad’s on student council with me—here! Got a pen and paper?”

“…Yes.”

She rattled off Shad’s number so quickly Sheik almost didn’t get it all down, then attempted to dig for information about Ravio.

Sheik _might_ have let his friend’s schedule slip, but he hung up immediately thereafter and tried Shad’s number.

Shad picked up right away.

“Hello? This is Shad.”

“…Shad?”

“….Sheik? Holy—Alright, hi. What do you need?”

He let out an explosive sigh.

“I need to contact Link.”

“Is he not going to be at school tomorrow or something? You alright?”

“I do not know. I just…I can barely speak Hylian correctly, and reading and writing the language are entirely beyond me. My aunt has given me until tonight to find someone who can teach me it, and I would ask you but I understand that you are busy and this must be done as soon as possible.” Sheik regretted the words as soon as he said them—there was no need for Shad to know any of it. It would only cause trouble.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’d love to help, Sheik, but you’re right—I kind of overloaded on stuff this year. Look, I’ll give you Link’s number and you can try him, but I don’t know if he’ll pick up for you or what he’s got going on this year. This is your number, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll save it, alright? You can call whenever. And…Link’s kind of difficult sometimes, so…anyway, I hope it goes okay.”

Sheik scowled at that—Shad’s words were too ominous for his tastes—but he obediently copied down the number and added Shad to his contact list.

“I’ll try to help as best I can, ‘kay? I’ve gotta go now, though. Dad’s home. See you tomorrow, Sheik.”

“Thank you, Shad.” Sheik sighed, and hung up. He glared at the phone for a moment longer before dialing Link’s number.

He really hated this-the waiting and the talking and the technology. Damned Hylians. He could manage computers just fine, but this _phone_.

It rang, and rang, and rang. Sheik let out a sigh and was just about to pull it away from his ear when somebody picked up.

“Hi!” It was a child’s voice, that of a little girl.

“…Hello?”

“Who are you?”

“ _Aryll!”_ The shout startled him and he nearly dropped the phone. Sounds of general chaos ensued, and he held it away from his ear. Had Shad given him a wrong number?

“Uh, hello?” No, that was Link’s voice.

“Link…?”

“Who’s—Sheik? Uh, h-where’d you get this number?”

“Shad…”

“Ok— _Fanadi!_ Stop It! Hold on a minute, sorry Sheik.”

Sheik let his forehead hit his desk. His bedroom door flew open, crashing against the wall, and he jumped violently—nearly falling from his seat. Impa stood in the doorframe, hands on her hips and glaring dangerously as she signed anger.

“Why is there blood on your bag?” She asked it in Hylian.

“I cut myself.” Sheik held up his hand to prove the point, and her eyes widened.

“Did anyone see?”

“I took care of it myself.”

“How did you cut yourself?”

“I threw the blunt end of the needles I was using. I did not want to…decapitate Link.” The word felt strange on his tongue, but he liked it. He’d asked Byrne on the way to the graveyard-it meant to sever the head from the neck. The needles hadn’t been wide enough to do that, but it amused him that Link had declared they would have.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Who’s Link?”

“…Sheik?” He turned his attention to the phone, literally putting his back to his aunt—he was still angry with her, but it was a stupid move. Last time he’d done so she’d turned it into an ‘educational’ experience, and he hadn’t been bruised that badly since the last time Byrne came to visit. The point, she’d said when he’d asked, was to never put your back to your enemy.

“I apologize if I am interrupting anything.”

“No, you’re fine. It’s Monday and everybody comes over for dinner on Monday, so they’re being annoying. What do you need? Something wrong?” Movement caught his eye and he turned as Impa strode in, taking a seat on his bed as she folded her arms across her chest, signing suspicion.

“No, I, ah…I can barely speak your language, and I cannot read or write it. I need help learning the language, and I was wondering if you would be willing to do so.” There was a beat of silence before Link responded.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not an expert in languages or anything, but I’d be willing to help. This for Compositions?”

“Everything.” Sheik said faintly, and the sudden enormity of what he was asking of a virtual stranger struck him.

“If you are busy and cannot-“

“No, Sheik, I’ve got nothing going on. I’m free. Is this something you’ll want to do after school or on weekends or something?”

“I would like to get this done as quickly as I possibly can. I do not want to be a burden and this is something that…should have been-“

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Link’s voice was, surprisingly, firm.

“Do you have anything going on tomorrow night?”

“I will be at the studio, but I do not think that there is much to…do there at this point in time.”

“What’s the studio?”

“…You do know how your magic works, do you not?”

“...What?” Sheik laughed.

“Music. Hylian magic is intimately tied in with music.”

“Oh. _Oh._ Yeah. Alright, that makes sense. Sorry. I’m not a total idiot, I swear. So I’m free tomorrow. Do you want to meet there or something?”

“Hilda is taking me there tomorrow after classes. If you wish to, you may ride with us.”

“You could just not go tomorrow.” Impa cut in, voice too quiet for Link to hear. Sheik responded by throwing his pencil at her. He’d sacrificed nearly a _month_ for that damned injury-he was _going._

“Sure. Would you be able to drop me off?”

“Yes.” If somebody couldn’t drive him, Sheik could always use magic—the ban only applied if he was in town, not in Sheikah land. Elder Midna would still kill him for it, but...

“Cool. Alright, then. I’ll have Fanadi watch Aryll for me, then. Anything else you need?”

“No. Thank you, Link, for doing this.”

“What are friends for? I’ve gotta go—sounds like somebody’s murdering somebody in there. See you tomorrow, Sheik.” And Link hung up, like his words hadn’t just run Sheik through.

Sheik sat there, stunned. _Friends?_

“This was a mistake.” He murmured in Sheikah, dropping the phone on his desk. Impa shook her head.

“No.”

“I can’t do this.”

“You will.”

“I’m not going to—I _can’t_ —condemn him—or any of them for that matter—to that!”

“This isn’t about them.” Impa snapped, standing up. The shadows in the corners of his room snapped violently, darkening. He stood up as well.

“This is about _you_ , Sheik, and the fact that you are _miserable_ because of some lie your-“

“Don’t you _dare_ bring them into this! This isn’t about them!”

“Yes it is! This argument is _always_ about them!”

“Shut _up!_ This has nothing to do with them! This has to do with the fact I will _not_ be that _cruel_ to someone! This has to do with the fact my conscience will not let me hurt someone like that for a few _seconds_ of—of _what?!_ I wouldn’t be able to tell them anything—I’d spend the whole time _lying_ to them, for Nayru’s sake! What kind of relationship would that even _be?!_ It isn’t worth it! And you forcing things so-“

“Sheik-“

“ _No!_ I can’t—I can’t do this! I _won’t!_ ”

He was out of the room before Impa had recovered, stumbling down the stairs-

-and right into Byrne.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

               Byrne opened the door before Impa had time to knock, and she very nearly wept in relief when she spotted Sheik. He was curled up in a nest of blankets on Malladus’ couch, asleep. Byrne didn’t say a word when she swept past him and began fussing over Sheik, just closed the door. Thankfully, her nephew didn’t stir—it would start something if he were to wake up and see her.

There was a cut on his cheek. Her jaw clenched and her head snapped up. She could feel the shadows flickering—and Malladus studiously refused to meet her gaze.

“…He was angry. Wanted a fight. Gave me a couple good bruises. Then I handed him over to Byrne and he cried for most of the night.” Malladus added, scowling. Byrne rolled his eyes at his Elder and leaned against the wall beside him, raking his metal fingers through his hair.

“Did he tell you…?”

“He only ever does this when it’s about Mom and Dad. Was pretty upset about some Hylians—one of them was the kid at the attack.” Byrne said pointedly.

_Link_. That was where she’d known the name. And, hadn’t Ravio said something about meeting his Hylian today when Sheik had introduced them?

“I made him socialize. The boy must have said something to him that upset him, and I…didn’t think. He’d been doing so _well_ and then he just…shut down.”

Impa sat on the carpet, watching Sheik anxiously while Byrne let out another sigh. Malladus disappeared to Nayru-knew-where. Any sort of display of emotion made the Elder uncomfortable. The fact that he was still here, especially if Sheik had been as much of a mess as he’d said he was, was a miracle.

“You might not give a fuck what happens to the Hylian, but the whole point of this is that Sheik _will_. He can’t handle doing that to someone. At best, he’ll blurt everything out to the kid and the kid’ll think he’s nuts. At worst, Marin’s crazy-ass plan will actually succeed, and when the Elder’s finally get their shit together...no offense.” Byrne added lazily, craning his head around a nearby doorway. A grunt echoed through the doorway.

“He knows you mean the best, _nereih._ Don’t doubt that. Just…give him time. You should have seen them today.” Byrne added, snorting as he dropped down into an armchair. Impa lifted her gaze from Sheik in time to see Byrne sign amusement.

“Ravio was a fucking nut, and Hilda was so overwhelmed she just followed him everywhere. Sheik ran into that kid from the attack and just kinda followed him or his buddy all day. That combat class that Sheik signed up for? They had to pick ah, I think it’s kind of like battle partners for the Hylians. He teamed up with that kid right off the bat. They skipped most of the class, honestly, but Sheik said the kid had more skill than he’d expected. He was excited about that.” Byrne trailed off, sighing and raking a hand through his hair.

“I pissed off all his teachers, so I’m not going tomorrow…well, today, actually. He can take care of himself just fine.” Byrne added, seeing her about to protest. Impa glared at him, but she knew he was right.

It didn’t stop her worrying, or her fear.

“…Do you think he’ll take his trial soon?” Byrne asked. Impa slowly reached out and tugged carefully on the ruby earring hanging from Sheik’s ear, a small smile on her lips. He’d earn a purple one when he was declared an adult and survived the Shadow Temple, and a blue one after passing his Hylian _Rheshae._ Generally Sheikah earned the red, blue, and then purple, but…Sheik wouldn’t leave the Sheikah for anything. He’d have left by now if he truly wanted to, even with the Elders such a large threat to him.

_He’d grown up so fast…_

“By the time this _Rheshae_ has ended, he’ll be all but an Elder.” Impa murmured.

“Do you really think they’ll kill him?” It was blunt, but, then again, Byrne had never been one for subtly. She sighed.

“With Ganondorf having Power and Sheik having Wisdom’s Power, they can actually teach the kid how to control it without starting another war, right? And I don’t care what Elder Midna says, she’s as attached to him as you are.” Byrne pressed, before she could respond. Impa shook her head.

“That’s the point. We’re not supposed to be biased. Just because I so clearly am, Midna _has_ to push just as hard in the opposite direction. You know what kind of person she is, what she’s lost. She swore that she wouldn’t mess this chance up, and she’ll do anything to keep that promise. Nayru didn’t accept her lightly.”

No. Nayru had very nearly killed Midna before changing her mind. Even Malladus, who truly _was_ a demon, hadn’t faced nearly as much opposition to becoming a Sheikah. He’d sacrificed his power for some semblance of humanity—Midna hadn’t had any when she’d passed her Shadow Trials and her Ceremony.

“Shouldn’t matter. Nayru took Sheik with open arms and he’s been so damned blessed…” Byrne shook his head, angry.

“Don’t blame her.” Impa warned, standing up.

“I’ll blame the bitch as much as I want. She did this to him. Her and-“ Byrne broke off, shaking his head again.

“You sleeping here?”

“No. I just wanted to make sure he was safe.”

He hugged her before she left, and Malladus came out of hiding long enough to give her a stiff nod.

She didn’t go home. She couldn’t bring herself to. Instead she went to the one place she could get in serious trouble for going—but it was the only place she had always been able to call home.

Eagus welcomed her with a half-smile and no questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lhe--no  
> Rheshae--roughly "assimilation", full definition in chp 3.  
> Uirah--"Battle dance" that the Sheikah practice, see chp 1.  
> Nereih--"my aunt"  
> You'll find out what Elne means later lol, it's a secret for now.


End file.
